A Certain Aeon of Conflict
by Maderfole
Summary: Picking up shortly after Daihasei, a new and epic storyline begins that will vastly expand the Index/Railgun story world. To be an immense fic by an experienced author. Touma x Mikoto pairing, all in good time. See first chapter for expanded notes on premise.
1. Intro

Greetings and salutations. This is not my first fanfic, nor my second, or even my fifth, but it is my first foray into A Certain Magical Index/Scientific Railgun. I've relatively recently come to the fandom, mostly through the anime series, which I've watched in the last year or so, but I've found it quite intriguing, albeit more on the Science side of things than the Magic side, perhaps because of being in a fairly Sciency profession in my real life. Which is not to say I don't like the Magic side, simply that its the Science side, and specifically Mikoto Misaka, that have captured my interest the most in the canon story. Obviously enough to prompt me to write a fanfic for it. I hope that it will serve to help me get back into writing more, so that I can finish my other fanfics, specifically my Golden Age trilogy over in Gundam Seed, while also continuing to make progress here, on the Aeon of Conflict.

A little about me as a writer. I am an avaricious and very fast reader, so I tend to favor longer works, both in terms of chapter length and story length. A quick glance at my profile will show anyone who cares to investigate just what I consider a good "finished" story to be like in terms of length. So you'd better settle in for a good long ride, 7 digit total word count, even if it takes me a while to get there. I tend to favor epic, world expanding stories, involving many characters, both Canon and OC, centered around a few, but not necessarily ABOUT them in particular, or not always about them either. I tend to include a fairly large mix of OC's into my stories, but I'm quite well practised at creating and writing them, so most of my readers don't seem to mind. Indeed, in my Gundam stories, many of my OC's are more popular than the canon cast to most reviewers. My stories tend to be somewhat of more serious mien, but I can and will do humor, especially in a setting like Index/Railgun, where its a common part of the show. My stories also tend to be more towards the mature end of the scale, especially when it comes to swearing and violence and gore. The story as a whole is rated T, as I consider Teens in this day in age to be able to handle some blood and swearing and gore, but there may be moments that push to M... I'll try to give warning before any such scenes, so they can be skipped over by the more squeamish readers.

I'm an English primary speaker and writer, and I have little talent for other languages. So I'll be writing using the english methods of names and other things, while staying as closely to the intonation and verbal habits of the various characters as I can, without the benefit of Japanese language nuances. My writing is good, but not 100 percent grammatically correct. I do make spelling errors, so feel free to point them out if that's your thing, though its generally not more than a dozen or so every 10,000 words, so I'd say I do fairly well. Though I have no talent for other languages, where appropriate for various characters, I may use them all the same, through the use of Google Translate, with appropriate translations at the end of the chapter for the curious. I apologize to any native speakers of any language I might butcher in this way, feel free to comment in a review and offer any ways for me to better say what I'm trying to say.

I cannot promise regular updates. Sometimes I'll get 2-3 out in a week, and sometimes months will pass without an update. Certainly its a flaw and one I constantly fight to correct, but I don't have it beaten yet. I ask only for your patience, and remind you, that as always, good reviews that detail what you liked and what you didn't like, and why, help an author feel inspired and appreciated and more likely to produce further work. That said, I'm not the sort to hold chapters or updates hostage to reviews. I'm writing this as much for me as for you, perhaps moreso since right now I don't even know if I'll gain an audience here. Review if you want, and I'll certainly appreciate it, and reply via Author Notes or PMs in most cases. And if you don't care to review, that's obviously fine too, as there's nothing I can do about it. I will point out that I am very open to suggestions, ideas, questions and concerns relayed by Review, and am more than happy to borrow/incorporate good ideas from fans into the story itself, with their permission, and assuming those ideas fit within my story universe. I consider it a key to my success in some ways... as this is FAN fiction after all, and it should cater to fans, even those who have trouble writing their own stories but still have plenty of good ideas to pursue.

 **Bold Text** is used for scene headers.

 _Italics_ is for character thoughts.

CAPS is used for raised voices, particular emphasis or the like.

There's no need for a disclaimer. This is obviously a fan work, and while some of my fans wish my work was canon in other genres, as yet that happy milestone has yet to be reached by me.

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Before I start the story itself, I'd like to fill prospective readers in a little more on my premise and universal assumptions, as the story summary tagline obviously doesn't have the room to really explain much. I'm starting the story right after the end of the Daihasei festival, during the time when Touma wins the trip to Italy for him and Index, and they have the encounter with the Queen of the Adriatic Sea and its fleet. So just before episode 17 (Penalty Game) of the second Index Anime season. September 26th on the universal Timeline for the Index/Railgun canon. I am discarding pretty much everything of what occurs after that point, as I've not really seen or read much of that stuff, though I may include events that are similar to what happens in canon at times. Such incidents will be mostly coincindental. I apologize to anyone who prefers stories that occur during or after the Academy City Invasion Arc. Characters from various points may continue to show up as I become more and more familiar with the wider setting, but the events depicted will either be changed drastically or ignored.

I am also most likely breaking some of the rules and accepted canon conventions related to the world of Index/Railgun as a whole. In particular with the introduction of ACME and EKG, I'm expanding the use of Espers beyond just Academy City, as I find it unlikely the USA and Russia would not have some sort of Esper development programs, even if they are not as successful as Academy City. I guess I simply see Academy City as just "part" of the wider world, a Superpower alongside the others, whereas the show and manga and novels tend to portray Academy City as the "focus" of the world, and perhaps the lone Superpower. I'm also somewhat expanding the Magic Side, to include groups and individuals that use magic but are not religiously motivated or affiliated. There's a very small amount of that shown in canon, at least so far as I've seen, but for the most part, Magic = Religion in Index/Railgun, and I want to buck that trend a little, by exploring the actual darker side of Magic, through the Hollow Ones. After all, even though they act as villains in the canon story, the Roman Catholic Church is still supposed to be "Good Guys" in the overall moral scale of things. They're just a bit extreme and fanatical and careless of the feelings and beliefs of others.

I'm also somewhat expanding the number of Gemstones in the world, as only 50 is quite a small number. I'm saying its more like only 50 known, and there may well be others who have been snapped up by various oragnizations that aren't included in that overall count, or who are unknowing of their state as Gemstones. I'm playing with the identity of the 6th ranked Level 5 in Academy City, who it turns out to be will of course be a surprise the story will have to reveal. I'll be doing my best not to flood the story with powerful OCs, though in the interest of overall fairness, there are a couple level 5 OC Espers, and similarly powerful Magic users. After all, its no fun if the protagonists don't face serious challenges along the way. And with the way Level 5's vary in relative power anyway, just being Level 5 alone is not in and of itself game breaking. I guess what I mean to say is that I don't create Mary Sue/Gary Stu OCs, and if you think I'm veering towards that with a character, I'd appreciate you letting me know, all the moreso if you can explain why you think that, and ways I can change them to not be, while keeping them as a character.

I'm primarily shipping Mikoto and Touma, though of course it wouldn't be Index/Railgun without Touma being pursued and exposed to a horde of different females. But their relationship is the one I like the most, in romantic terms, while Touma and Index feels more familial than romantic, despite Index's feelings at times. Other characters may pair up via canon lines or with OC's as the story progresses, I prefer to let that sort of thing evolve naturally over time, especially as relatively few of the canon characters have definite preferences listed, besides the normal vast number of females who have a thing for Touma. And while I'm not averse to the idea of polygamous relationships I tend to avoid outright harem stuff unless I can find a way to make it seem workable within the more serious mein of the story.

As the story advances, I will most likely create a dedicated forum for it, listing the various OC factions and characters, and any other information I feel relevant. As I plan for this to be a million word story, and perhaps just the first story of several in a series, this should help readers keep track of who is who, and what is what.

xx

As for the actual plot of the story, well, its called the Aeon of Conflict. I imagine there will be plenty of conflicts and drama and action to come, as well as as many lessons of morality and human nature as I can subtly slip into things, like any good Anime should. I don't know how it will end, I'll let that evolve as I write. All I know is that if I have anything at all to say about it, this will be the most epic and amazing Index/Railgun fanfic you will ever read!

Thank you for Reading, and I hope you enjoy as much as I do!


	2. The Public Figure

xxxx

 **Academy City, District 15, September 26th, Afternoon**

The streets were bustling, as they always were once school let out, students pouring from the cramped and stodgy halls of academia to frolic and flow through Academy City's renowned commercial district, where some of the world's best malls and stores could be found. A riot of different school uniforms, sprinkled liberally with more casual wear from those who had the time or opportunity to change their clothes, along with adults in suits and business suitpants. The autumn air was crisp and fresh, a light breeze plucking at skirts and collars and hairstyles, but not enough to be annoying, merely noticable. A clear sky, empty of clouds, a seemingly endless vault of blue extending into infinity above, drifting display blimps loitering above the city like browsing fish above a coral reef. It was another beautiful afternoon in Academy City, a day much like any other, for the vast majority of its 2.3 million residents, the vast majority of which were students of its many, many schools. The hum of cars and robo-buses on the street, the tramp of thousands of footsteps on the sidewalk, the dull roar of indstinct crowd noise that came from hundreds of different conversations all happening at once... the normal background noises of any major city street, crashing like distant surf, a wall of living noise that was only truly noticable in its absence.

Certainly the pulse of the city around her did not overtly intrude upon the thoughts of a certain chestnut haired girl who strode down the sidewalk, her plaid skirt fluttering in the breeze, long sleeve tan uniform jacket insulating her from the mild chill, a red ribbon tied in a precise bow at her throat, around the collar of her pristine white shirt. Her hair barely brushed the tops of her shoulders, a fringe almost falling into her eyes across most of her forehead, held back on the right side of her head by a small hairpin in the shape of two small white flowers. Her large, expressive eyes were nearly the same hue as her hair, a warm chestnut shade that could be as warm as family fireplace or as furious as a raging bonfire, oftentimes within seconds of each other. A pale complexion and a medium stature worked well with a body that was more lithe than slim, which a chest that was barely noticable, helped not at all by the constraints of her uniform, but the overall feminity of her form was well acentuated by her legs and posture all the same. An uninformed observer could be forgiven for not giving this particular a girl a second glance, there was nothing about her physical appearance to pick her out especially from any of dozens of schoolgirls within view.

However, as any knowledgeable observer would know, that uniform... belonging to the prestigous and famous Tokiwadai Private Girls Middle School... and that particular somewhat unassuming appearance belonged to one of Academy Cities greatest celebrities, none other than the famous... or infamous at times... Railgun, 3rd ranked Level 5 Esper, one of only seven knwn to exist within Academy City. Better known to her friends as Mikoto Misaka. She ambled at a somewhat slower pace than her usual direct stride, staring straight ahead, arms swinging at her side, one hand clutching the patent leather briefcase that Tokiwadai issued as part of the uniform, in place of a backpack or bookbag. A trained, and close range observer, might even notice that her normally fierce gaze was somewhat unfocused, perhaps even one might daresay dreamy, or distracted, as if she wasn't truly seeing the city around her as she walked. In this, such an observer would be quite correct.

Mikoto's mind was far, far away from the streets of District 15, her electromagnetic sense serving as anti-collision radar to keep her from bumping into anyone as she walked along with her thoughts several thousand miles away... quite literally, as she was thinking of a certain spiky haired idiot of her acquaintance, who happened to be in Italy at the moment, enjoying a rare streak of good luck, having won the trip during the recent Daihasei festival. A slight smile turned up the corner of her lips, so faint only a close friend would probably be able to notice it. It was about time some good fortune fell in that particular idiot's lap, in her opinion. Given all the unlucky crap that happened to him on a daily basis, not to mention the dangerous situations he threw himself headlong into without any thought for his own safety, which seemed to strike every time he turned around! It was one such situation that had led to their first meeting, and another such occurence that had vastly increased her interest in him as something more than just an interesting... and annoying... sparring partner!

A shiver crept down her spine, even now that the Radio Noise and Level 6 Shift projects were dead and dust, thanks to her own efforts, and that idiot's personal intervention. She could still hardly believe the results of that last night, where the fool had confronted her head on, prevented her from sacrificing herself to save her Sisters, and taken the whole burden of defeating the evil project... and the first ranked Level 5 Esper, Accelerator... on himself. Without a second thought. Without a hesitation. Like it was only the most natural thing in the whole world to do! Like he confronted people that she, as one of the most pwowerful people in all Academy City couldn't even hope to defeat, on a regular basis! And then he'd actually DONE it! He'd fought Accelerator face to face and flattened him! The guy who had taken her Railgun head on and bounced it back at her without mussing a hair, had ended up bruised, broken and bloody, in a heap on the cold gravel of the trainyard, all by the hand of that idiot! If she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she never would have believed it.

Of course the idiot hadn't gotten off unscathed, and it still roiled her gut to think about how badly injured he'd been, all for her sake, and the sake of her Sisters. Dr. Gekota... she couldn't help but think of the frog faced doctor by that name... had patched the idiot together again of course, but that did little to salve the burn in Misaka's heart when she recalled the injuries themselves, in the immediate aftermath of the fight in the trainyard, the idiot lying there only feet from Accelerator, in a pool of his own blood! Even his hand, that damned hand that could block anything she threw at him like it was nothing, had been swathed in bandages by the time the doctors were done with him! Just thinking about that hand derailed her thoughts in a different direction. What WAS IT with that? How did he do that negation trick? She'd looked, and looked, and looked, and there was NOTHING in any Academy City database she could find that mentioned anything like that ability. His personnel file in the city database said he was just a level 0 Esper, like millions of others in the city. Clearly that was not the case though.

Other memories of that hand intruded on her flash of annoyance... the feeling of it patting her on the head, stroking her temple reassuringly as she held his smoking body on the bridge, after she'd blasted him full on in the chest before he'd proposed his insane plan to confront Accelerator himself. No one had touched her like that since she left home as a young child, since her mother hand calmed and gentled her childhood nightmares and hurts. That simple touch on the head had spread a feeling Misaka couldn't indentify, much less understand, throughout her whole body, squeezing her heart and shortening her breath, but in a way that wasn't uncomfortable all the same. A feeling that returned every time her thoughts strayed too much in the idiot's direction, and flared up every time she saw his face, making her skin itch and her face flush in a way that always pissed her off so much. No one else had EVER made her feel anything like this in her whole life. It was a damned annoyance!

And Misaka had always had a particular method of dealing with annoyances in her life... she confronted them head on and crushed them with her power! Except obviously that did not work against him, except when he allowed it to, which defeated the purpose. But if there was any one virtue Misaka could definitely lay claim to having, it would be Tenacity. She'd find a way to beat that idiot, and then she'd... well, she wasn't exactly sure what she'd do then. Perhaps the upcoming Penalty Game would help her figure something out. She smiled happily as she thought about it. She'd made a bet with the idiot during Daihasei, that her school would outscore his in certain events, and whoever lost had to do anything the winner said, no complaints allowed. Obviously she'd made the bet because she was sure she would win, but there had been a moment or two watching that idiot on the game field where she'd gotten a little worried. He'd been really fired up, and so was the rest of his school. In the end, spirit couldn't beat firepower, but it had put butterflies in her stomach for a while there all the same.

She'd even thought he'd gone so far as to cheat, joining up with a middle school event in the colors of Tokiwadai's competitor, in a match she herself was in. That had pissed her off something fierce, as she'd thought he was better than such methods. And of course, he was. He might be an idiot, but no one could say he was a dishonest idiot. She still didn't know exactly what was up with what happened that day... as usual, the idiot had run off before he could explain anything to her... but once again he'd acted to protect her from harm. It had been really... nice, actually, she could admit to herself at least. She wasn't used to people worrying about her. Or at least not like THAT. Her heart fluttered as she recalled the moment. Yes, it was really sweet of him, even if it was unnecessary. Probably. The Level 6 Shift project had put a few cracks in her belief of her own invulnerability and ability to beat any situation she encountered after all. What exactly had happened to his classmate after she touched what seemed like only a piece of paper on a basket stand, wasn't something Misaka understood, but the effect had been immediate and brutal all the same.

In the end, she'd emerged victorious in their bet, as she'd always known she would. That meant he was going to be hers to command when got back from his trip to Italy! Her whole face lit up, unbeknownst to her, a wide grin stretching her lips, a fire shining in her eyes that was a little disturbing to passerby, as she plotted what she was going to make that idiot do now that she had total control over him! Her hands twitched, a deeper flush spreading across her face as a spot on her hip and her shoulder suddenly flared up with tingling sensation. The spots where that idiot had put his hands on her during the Bonfire Folk Dance. Unconsciously, Misaka reached up and touched her shoulder in the same spot, her face heating up even more as she recalled those minutes of... peace and serenity, she supposed... that had filled the world while she stood in his arms as they swayed around the bonfire. They hadn't spoken... she was too flustered and the idiot had never been the best conversationlist, except when he was being all sweet and profound anyway. But they hadn't needed to. She'd felt so comfortable there, no words had been needed.

Of course, no good thing lasted forever, and that one had lasted shorter than most, as Kuroko had intervened, kicking the idiot in the head and dragging Misaka away in a fit of pique, and the idiot had taken the chance to flee and disappear somewhere, of course, rather than come to her rescue and chase away... Misaka stopped dead in the street, her face aflame, eyes almost bulging from her head. She shook her head frantically and stamped her foot. No! No way did she just wish that IDIOT would have come and chased away Kuroko. Like she needed rescuing! Kuroko was one of her dearest friends, despite her perveted tendencies. All she was upset about was interrupting the bonfire dance. That was all. It had been noisy and ungraceful. And while normally she didn't care about grace, for some reason it mattered then. Because the idiot was around. No! Why did that matter? Misaka slapped her hands to her cheeks in dismay. She had to stop thinking about this! She blinked and looked around at her surroundings, her meanderings having taken her deep into District 15 while she had been thinking... thoughts... about the idiot.

It was an area she didn't normally frequent, at least during the early afternoon like this. It was a perfectly respectable area during daylight hours, but became a haunt for the unsavory and seedy once the sun went down. In truth she wasn't all that far from the area where she'd first met the idiot, when she'd been surrounded by that gang of hoodlums and he'd come barging into the middle of it, where we wasn't wanted or needed. Still, it had been a surprisingly admirable action on his part... though as she'd soon learned, it was really nothing more than his nature. He could no more walk around trouble than he could breath water. Of course, even at his best, the idiot was still an idiot, so he'd quickly managed to piss her off during his ham-handed attempt at rescue. He was really good at that. And he seemed to be getting better and better at it over time. Just being NEAR him got her flustered. Just THINKING about him got her...

"DAMN IT!" Misaka erupted, startling several people around her, grinding her teeth as she realized she'd started thinking about him again while trying NOT to think about him! "Get yourself under control!" She admonished herself under her breath. "You keep going at this rate, and people really will think he's my b-b-boy... b-b-boy... b-boyfri... NAARRGH!" She groaned, slumping against a nearby building wall. _I can't even say it_ , she groused glumly to herself, panting for breath, despite not having been tired a moment ago. Sparks crackled through her hair and along her clothes, the air acquiring a noticable heavy static charge as her agitation blend out through her powers before she forced herself to be calm again. "Shopping!" She reminded herself forcefully. She came here to go shopping... a rare personal and private excursion, since Kuroko was still wheelchair bound and admonished not to teleport by the doctors, and both Saten and Uiharu had been busy and unable to meet up.

It was her chance to pick up some of the things she'd seen on previous visits, like those cute pink and flower pajamas, and any new Gekota merchandise that might catch her eye! She knew her taste's were childish, but that didn't make them any less her tases, but she couldn't bear to indulge in them while under her friend's despairing gazes. Not that they were judging her, but it still stung her pride all the same. So she waited for the chance to buy the stuff with no one watching. Misaka sighed, able to recognize her own dysfunction at least, if not combat it. She straightened her shoulders and quickened her pace. No telling when Kuroko might disregard her medical restrictions and appear to try and drag her off lingerie shopping. Misaka shuddered with repressed memories. She didn't mind the idea of lingerie itself. She just didn't want to wear any herself. Why would she, when she wasn't even trying to attract a guy, and the idiot probably wouldn't care about lingerie anyway so...

Misaka bonked herself on the side of the head in dismay. _There I go again, thinking about the idiot. Is there ANY train of thought that won't lead me back to him?_ She thought, somewhat desperately. _I need a distraction! Anything! Why is Skill-Out never around when they might actually be useful?_ She bemoaned. A flash of blue and bronze out of the corner of her eye provided salvation from her thoughts, and Misaka cranked her head around like the turret on a battleship, locking on to anything to give her mind a chance to clear. _You don't see that every day._ She commented to herself, as she beheld the full spectacle of what had caught her eye. It was some sort of weird cosplayer or something, though she didn't recognize the game or the character he was emulating.

He looked a little older than her, high school age rather than middle school, taller than usual, close to six feet, with features that definitely classified him as a foreigner. Academy City was an international mixing pot to some extent, but the majority of its citizens remained of Japanese descent all the same, so those who were not definitely stood out in a crowd. His skin was pale, with freckles across his cheeks and nose, his complexion that of someone who didn't get out into natural sunlight too much. His most immediately notable feature was his hair, which was slicked into a number of large spikes, more like stalagmites than the ruffled mess the idiot had, all of which were dyed a vibrant, almost electric blue color. The hair probably added a good six inches to his height, even swept back at an angle like it was. Archaic looking bronze and smoked glass goggles were perched on his forehead, held on by a leather strap. The goggles were quite a construction, with multiple rotating lenses and bundles of uninsulated wires trailing from the sides, running down behind the guy's ears to a bulky and boxy looking pack on his back, which seemed to be made of riveted and bolted brass and wood and iron.

A heavy brown button down duster coat covered the guy from collar to just above the ankles, looking like something a soldier from WW1 might wear in the trenches, seemingly made of heavy linen or felt, with leather straps and buckles crisscrossing it in various spots, and a plethora of pockets and pouches sewn into it. Heavy gloves covered his hands, almost like gauntlets or mitts, with more wires extending off them and disappearing into his sleeves, and thick rubber soled boots shod his feet, shiny with dozens of buckles and more of the bare wires. An especially thick belt, crowded with bits and peices of unidentifiable junk, was wrapped around his waist, with dozens of the wires poking in and out of it, and ribbed metal cables running around and back to the boxy pack on his back. A closer glance at the pack showed it was festooned with dials and gauges and spinning gears and other gewgaws, and it seemed to be buzzing or humming, or maybe ticking in some way.

 _And people say my tastes are weird for my age!_ Misaka thought to herself, a little smugly, before berating herself for the unkind thought. People's tastes were their own, after all, it wasn't her place to judge what someone else called stylish. Besides, this had to be some sort of costume, even if she couldn't identify what it was from. She watched the guy as he trudged along, looking around with the gawping expression of a new arrival in the city, a tourist or transfer student whow as amazed at how technologically advanced Academy City was. He seemed a little lost, but didn't appear to be in any distress, so she left him be, quickly losing him in the crowd as she turned at the next intersection, slowly working her back towards Seventh Mist, her favorite mall. She was making good progress, the crowds becoming thicker and thicker as she approached the heart of the commerical district. It wasn't something one really paid attention to, the jostle of humanity on all sides as people left and joined the throngs on the street from the stores lining the sidewalks.

A sudden jolt whacked Misaka in the shoulder, as a hurrying highschooler, clad in jeans and a black hoody, came pushing through the crowd, against the flow of traffic. The contact was light, the boy spinning away almost as soon as he touched her, barely pushing her to the side for a moment. "Sorry!" He called over his shoulder as he hustled on, dodging and ducking through the crowd. Misaka looked after him with a frown, annoyed at his rudeness, but then again, there was no accounting for teenagers... and Misaka said that being one herself. She paused, still looking after the boy... something didn't feel right about this. The way he was moving through the crowd, it was a little too smooth for some reason, angling back and forth through the other pedestrians for no good reason she could see... even avoiding a few clear zones where he could have picked up the pace if he'd really been in a rush. The breeze ruffled her skirt again, and it flapped against her thighs in a way it hadn't been doing before... almost as if it was lighter than it used to be!

Alarmed, Misaka jammed her hands into her pockets, and a thunderous expression settled on her face as she felt nothing. Her wallet was gone. So was her phone. Her Gekota wallet and Gekota phone! She'd just been pickpocketed, as brazen as could be, right out on the street! "HEY!" She hollered, sparks cascading from her hair in a furious stream, as she pointed at the fleeing pickpocket's back. "GET BACK HERE, YOU!" She demanded, and gave chase when the target of her ire didn't slow down, indeed he seemed to pick up the pace. "STOP!" She yelled, pushing and bumping into people, who at least began to clear a route ahead of her as they saw her electric display, as few in Academy City were stupid enough to get in front of an angry Esper, even fellow Espers. Misaka prided herself on her athletic ability, and she could put on a serious turn of speed when her ire was up, but the thief gamely kept his lead, despite fewer people giving way for him. Misaka narrowed her eyes as she caught occasional glimpses of him moving past blockages of people that really should have slowed him down, without missing a stride. It was almost like he was pushing THROUGH the people in an instant, rather than past them. Clearly an ability was in use here!

The crowds were restricting her own ability... she couldn't start hurling lightning around with all these innocent bystanders in the line of fire, but by locking on to the very familiar electronic signal of her phone, she could at least ensure the thief wasn't going to elude her, no matter how he dodged and weaved! "STOP!" She demanded again, her voice strident and powerful. She looked around, but as usual, neither Judgment nor Anti-Skill seemed to be anywhere nearby. She was going to have to solve this herself! Slowly but surely, she gained on the thief, who was starting to glance back over his shoulder, though his hood was pulled low over his brow, so she couldn't get a clear look at his face. Clearly he realized that he wasn't going to be getting away from her in the crowd, so at the next alleyway, he dived aside and headed down the much narrower path between buildings, perhaps believing someone in Tokiwadai's uniform would hesitate to enter such a shady and filthy place.

This proved to be a considerable mistake, as Misaka didn't slow down in the slightest, indeed, with the crowds out of her way, she sped up to her full speed, even running up the walls with her magnetic stride at times to avoid obstructions on the alley floor. Crackling arcs of electric power crawled down her right arm to gather in her palm, as she drew back the arm and then hurled it forward, like a baseball pitcher throwing a fastball, propelling a streaking shockball at the thief's back. She was dead on, as usual, but to her considerable surprise, the crackling blue ball of voltage didn't burst against the thief's back and drop them in their tracks like a taser to the back of the skull, but rather punched right through them and hissed as it detonated uselessly against the concrete alley floor! Her steps faltered for a moment in constrenation, but there didn't seem to be any harm to the thief or their clothing, so she sped up again. Definitely an ability, though not one she was familiar with. Though given how many variations on abilities there were within the city, that wasn't too surprising.

She hounded the thief hard, slowly gaining on him with every passing moment, something the thief finally seemed to accept... he wasn't going to be able to run away. Turning into a slightly more open section of the alleyway, he spun, one arm swinging out wide, his fingers brushing the concrete wall, a chunk of concrete seeming to come loose into his hand, even though the wall was smooth and pristine otherwise, as if he'd just pulled it right out of the wall somehow! He hurled the baseball sized chunk of concrete right at her, but Misaka blasted it aside with an irritated twitch of her eyebrow and a surge of voltage. The stink of burned stone blew through the alleyway for a moment as the chunk disintegrated into dust, and she glared fiercely at the thief, from about ten feet away. Misaka smirked confidently at her opponent. "Just surrender." She advised grimly. "And I promise I won't shock you too bad for stealing my phone and my wallet..."

"Screw you. I can feed myself for a week off the wallet of a princess like you!" The thief retorted with a sneer she could hear, if not really see, with his face shadowed by his hood. "Its just a few thousand yen and a crappy phone that was out of date five years ago... go get your butler to buy you a new one, princess!"

"Stealing is wrong. And using your ability to help you steal is even worse!" Misaka declared, offended.

"Heh. You like it? I call it Ghost Protocol." The thief bragged. "I can turn myself, and anything I touch, intangible for a few moments at a time."

"Which explains why I didn't feel a hand go into my pocket." Misaka extrapolated with a tooth baring grin. "Its an interesting power. All the more shameful for you to put it to such dirty uses!" She hurled another spear of electric power at the thief, but it passed through him just like the first had, as his body and clothing became intangible. "That sure is annoying..." She commented under her breath. Her mind worked at lightning speed, trying to figure out her opponent's ability, and how she could circumvent it. He ripped another chunk out of the wall, his touch turning it immaterial so it broke from the wall, then soldifying a second later as it left his hand, as he hurled it at her face. She blasted it aside with a flicker of thought once more, only to see her assailant charge forward at her, throwing punches like a windmill.

All too many Espers were so reliant on their ability that they neglected to learn how to defend themselves in a physical confrontation... a weakness people like Skill-Out frequently exploited. Even the most powerful Espers, like Accelerator, sometimes fell prey to this attitude of hubris. And it could prove to be their downfall. But Misaka wasn't like that, she was more than capable of handling herself in a brawl if she had to. She ducked his wild punches, before throwing up an arm to block and trap another swing, planning on releasing a stunning jolt into his arm the moment he touched her. She was caught off guard as his swinging arm phased right through her upraised hand like it wasn't there, but proved to be all too solid as it impacted her cheek! She was already turning her head, spinning away to lessen the force of the blow, so it barely bruised her cheek, but it was rare for her to be touched in a street fight all the same!

Misaka skipped back a step, hurling an undirected forward arc blast of lightning to clear some room, sparks and arcs crawling all over the walls and ground. The thief retreated from the electrified ground, and something clicked in Misaka's mind. If his whole body turned intangible, then he should have just sunk into the ground under the influence of gravity, just like someone taking a step off the side of a roof! And that hadn't happened, so clearly at least the soles of his feet weren't intangible! Which meant he was still vulnerable there! Perhaps it was something like teleportation, if he was sunk into a physical object when he turned tangible again, the results probably wouldn't be pretty, due to how objects couldn't co-exist in the same space. Misaka had heard horror stories from Kuroko about what could happen to a Teleporter if they screwed up their arrival coordinates and arrived inside another object.

Thought turned to action in a moment, as she hurled a sheet of static charge onto the alley floor, so that any movement along it would send a powerful shock up the legs and feet of a person. She herself was immune of course, as she was to all forms of electric shock, and anyone with insulated footwear would probably be fine too, but her opponent was wearing simple sneakers, which would provide no defense. The thief proved canny however, leaping towards her even as she laid down her trap, diving towards her headlong. She braced for impact, electrifying her skin as a deterrent to being grappled, but once more, he phased through her, his entire body passing through her waist and hips with an odd chilly, breezy sensation. He hit the alley floor behind her, solid once more, and rolled athletically, scrambling to get back to his feet again. Misaka spun, determined to take advantage of him being prone, and presumably unwilling to phase out while he couldn't stop falling into the ground in the process, but the persistence of the cold, breezy sensation on her hips and upper thighs gave her a moment of pause.

She looked down in mortification as she saw her skirt was missing! As were the shorts she habitually wore under them! All she had on was her shirt, jacket and her Pink and Yellow polka dot Gekota panties, as well as her socks and loafers. Her shirt tails hung down to mostly cover her, but not entirely! She slowly lifted her eyes to stare at the thief, who was clutching her skirt and shorts in one hand. "Hah!" He crowed nastily. "Let's see the princess come chase me now, when everyone can see your... Gekota pantis...?" He trailed off in bemusement. "Are you sure you're a middle schooler?" He asked with squint. Sparks crackled from the walls and floor around him before he could saw more, a feeling of intense pressure building in the atmosphere around him as bolts of lightning crawled and skittered across the form of the girl in front of him. That was not a good sign.

Misaka found her head to be surprisingly blank, given the mortifying circumstances. She couldn't be aware of the small beads of tears in the corners of her eyes at being seen undressed like this by some low life scumbag, as she slowly, almost robotically reached into the front left pocket of her jacket, finding one of the arcade tokens she kept loose in there. _Nothing for it. I can't let him go now, not after seeing me like this._ She thought distantly to herself. _I'll just have to dispose of the body thoroughly. Perhaps Kuroko can help?_

Something of the dark thoughts going through her head must have shown on her face, because the thief swallowed whatever taunt he'd been about to toss out next, as he watched her point her arm at him, the coin balanced on her forefinger, with her thumb behind it, crackles of electrical force shimmering in the air around her limb, a rumble almost like distant thunder filling the alleyway as a corona of sparks burst and flared around her. She was lit up like a fireworks display, and the danger level was only rising as time passed, arcs of violent blue and purple current shooting from wall to wall across the alley, forming a backdrop of electric fury behind her. "Wait!" He held up his hands, throwing the skirt and shorts at her feet, and digging in his pockets for the phone and wallet he'd lifted earlier. "You can have these back! No harm, no foul, right?" The girl ignored the offering however, her face set like stone, her whole body trembling with rage. He prepared himself for intangibility, despite feeling like he'd definitely bitten off more than he could chew. This princess was way stronger than he'd thought!

He was still preparing himself when the coin launched, instantly transitioning into a beam of intense orange light haloed by electric blue current, thunderous recoil digging chunks out of the walls and floor of the alley as the Railgun shot blew past his head, almost close enough to scratch his skin, the heat and turbulence of its passage hurling him aside, slamming him into the wall of the alley like he'd been hit by a truck! Hurricane winds tore at his body and clothes, spinning scraps of trash and detrius high into the sky, scouring the alley clean, a trench gouged in the ground marking the arrow straight path of the electrically propelled projectile, running dozens of meters along the alley before it petered out, the air friction having finally melted the coin into vapor after about fifty meters. "Holy shi..." He gaped, his whole body trembling in awed fright, his meticulously crafted calm shattered by the near miss.

"YOU!" Misaka snarled, lowering her hand and snatching up her stolen clothes, pointing with her other hand at the terrified thief, crackling light gathering around her fingertips.

"I SURRENDER!" The thief shouted, covering his head with both hands, her wallet and phone still clutched tight, held before him like protective talismans. "I'M SORRY!" He screamed, closing his eyes and waiting for the pain of electrocution. After a minute or so, he opened his eyes and slightly lowered his arms. The Tokiwadai girl... the Railgun... was standing a few feet away, her back turned to him, her skirt and shorts donned once more.

"Put them on the ground." Misaka ordered him in a voice of ice, her face feeling like it was on fire all the same. "Along with anything else you stole today." She listened to him frantically emptying his pockets. "You will find Anti-Skill. You will turn yourself in." She continued, her spine as stiff as a metal rod, with her anger and embarrassment.

"Ok, ok, sure, just don't..." The thief started pleading, as the girl spun and was suddenly almost touching noses with him, her eyes like jellied fire burning into his soul.

"YOU. WILL. FORGET. EVERYTHING. YOU. SAW!" She enunciated slowly and clearly, biting each word off like she was trying to chew them to death with her teeth.

"Yes, definitely, of course, whatever you say!" The thief stammered in terror, seeing a fate worse than death if any other response was given.

"If you're lying, I will hunt you down." Misaka told him, chuckling darkly, causing sweat to pour down the guy's face.

"I'm not lying! Not lying at all! I didn't see anything! Nothing! I saw nothing!"

"Good. Now get out of my sight!" Misaka said with a grimace, picking up her wallet and phone, and the small pile of other wallets and phones the thief had already stolen that day. She listened to him follow her order, scrambling and scrabbling at the rubble strewn alleyway as he fled at top speed, clearly terrified for his life. Which was perhaps a bit of an overreaction on her part, she could admit now that she was calmer. Pickpocketing was a lesser offense than assault, which is what most SKill-Out members ended up charged with when they got in her way, and she never fired Railgun shots at them, even as a warning. But having him strip her like that had pushed all rational thought from her mind. The only upside to the entire travesty was that Kuroko wasn't around, and the idiot was out of town. Misaka couldn't even imagine what she would have done if that bastard thief had exposed her in front of the idiot... she would have had to find the nearest hole to crawl into and pull in after her, after blasting him to smithereens!

She had just reached the main sidewalk once again, and was beginning to feel like her composure was returned, when a shrill and excited screech jarred her. "SISSY!" screamed an immediately recognizable voice, and a second later Misaka found herself under assault by her roommate, Kuroko leaping out of her wheelchair, and crossing the intervening twenty meters between them, in the blink of an eye, to wrap Misaka up in a tight hug, her endlessly perverted hands immediately seeking to insinuate themselves into Misaka's jacket.

"GET OFF ME!" Misaka shouted, releasing a paralyzing jolt of voltage into Kuroko, perhaps a little more violently than normal, especially against someone who was still supposedly recovering her strength. But after the recent encounter, she was feeling a little sensitive about her personal space. The jolt had the desired effect, blasting Kuroko away in a charred heap, not that such a thing ever slowed the pigtailed girl down for long. "What are you doing here!? You're supposed to be recovering!"

"Seeing my Sissy is what helps me recover the fastest." Kuroko said with a leer, clambering unsteadily to her feet, her thighs and calves still weak from the injuries. She paused, squinting at Misaka. "Are you ok? You're all flushed and red." She paused, considering things, and frowned. "Don't tell me that troglodyte..."

"He's not even here!" Misaka protested, cutting off her roommate before she could make any embarrassing assumptions. "He's off in Italy!"

"Good riddance. Maybe he'll lose his passport and not be allowed back." Kuroko said with a sneer, before noticing the pile of wallets and phones in Misaka's arms. "What are those, Sissy?"

"Oh, you can actually help me with these." Misaka said with a smile. "I had another little... encounter, with a pickpocket."

"Sissy..." Kuroko shook her head in despairing admonishment.

"I LOOKED for Judgment, but nobody was around!" Misaka said defensively. _And a good thing too, given what happened in the alley._ She thought more privately.

"What happened, Sissy?" Kuroko demanded flatly. "Your face just got even more red. What are you hiding from me?"

"NOTHING!"

xxxx

 **District 7, Judgment Branch 177, Afternoon**

"Thanks for your help Misaka." Uiharu said brightly, half bowing from her seat in her usual chair in front of her computers in the Judgment office. "Judgment's been investigating the case of the Ghost Pickpocket for almost a week now, but we couldn't figure out how they were committing their crimes."

"It was no problem." Misaka replied, though she couldn't help but flush a little as she remembered the events of the takedown all the same.

"Uh huh." Kuroko said sceptically, peering at Misaka's blushing face with mild disgruntlement. Sissy didn't blush all that easily, in her experience, and generally only in related to a few subjects. Clearly SOMETHING had happened during her encounter with the pickpocket, but Sissy wouldn't be drawn or cajoled into revealing what, no matter what strategy Kuroko had employed on the trip back to the Judgment office. Normally there was only one thing that could cause this combination of flushed face and reticent attitude in Sissy, and that was the Troglodyte, much to Kuroko's displeasure. However, Sissy was correct, that useless boy was off in Italy on some sort of sweepstakes vacation, and good riddance as far as Kuroko was concerned. Unfortunately, out of sight didn't seem to be out of mind when it came to him, at least for Sissy. So while he might not have been directly involved in today's incident, clearly his imprint on Sissy was a contributing factor nonetheless to how she was acting. She would have to find a fitting punishment for him when he returned.

"You sure you don't want to join Judgment full time?" Konori, the head of the office, asked from her desk, sipping as usual on a carton of milk. "I mean, we all apreciate your assistance in various situations, but you really shouldn't be getting into fights with other students, even if they are criminals, as a civilian. No one's pressed charges yet, usually because they were obviously in the wrong, and you are the Railgun after all, but it would be better if you had some official backing on your interventions..."

"Oh no, thanks for the offer, but I've seen what Judgment's like." Misaka replied with a shiver. "I have total respect for all of you in Judgment, but its not something I could do. The rules you have to operate under, the restrictions on what you can and can't do... I'd cause more trouble than I was worth, I'm sure."

"Well, the offer remains open." Konori said with a smile. Having been the one to show Misaka what Judgment work was like, without realizing who Misaka was at the time, she could admit that the Railgun perhaps wasn't entirely suited for Judgment work. She was a little too direct. Not to mention a little too powerful... Judgment's rules would be more of a hinderance than a help for the direct and to the point justice Misaka favored. Not to mention that as a level 5, Misaka often had other responsibilities to discharge. Perhaps there was some sort of deputization they could get for her? She resolved to pursue the issue with higher up at the next chance. There really ought to be a way to give some sort of official authority to a level 5 who wanted to help out with civic order and justice on a pro bono basis!

"We could certainly use the extra manpower." Uiharu pointed out, her fingers tapping at her keyboard almost absentmindedly as she continued her work as one of the protectors of Academy City's secure data files from hackers, both amateur and professional. "We're going to be SO BUSY these next few weeks!"

"Hm? What's going on?" Misaka asked curiously. "I would have thought that with Daihasei over with, things would be calming down for a bit?"

"Jeez, Sissy, its been all over the news screens this afternoon. How could you miss it?" Kuroko admonished her friend, seeing her flush again in a way that told Kuroko quite a lot about Misaka's thought processes earlier in the day, and none of it good. Clearly she was going to have watch over Sissy a lot more closely from now on. She was almost ready to leave the wheelchair behind, and not a moment too soon if this was any indication. The contamination of the Troglodyte was clearly spreading while she was in the hospital, she had to act soon or Sissy might really develop some affection for that moronic lowlife! Though she couldn't understand why, she'd met the boy several times and there wasn't any special or interesting about him. He didn't even have any Abilities, and while Kuroko certainly wasn't a Levelist, she couldn't help but feel that a boy without any powers at all could never be worthy of Sissy. Not that a boy WITH powers would be worthy of her either, but still...

"Hey guys!" A new voice announced from the doorway to the office, as another girl strode into the room. She had long black hair and a confident smirk on her face, dressed in long pants and a green t shirt under a stylish white and red fleece jacket. "You hear the news! Its all over town!" Saten continued eubulliently, her eyes all but shining with excitement.

"We were just about tell Misaka about it actually." Uiharu answered, her eyes getting a little starry themselves.

"What, were you living under a rock this afternoon?" Saten asked teasingly as she looked at Misaka. "You must have really had your head in the clouds if you didn't see any of the announcements. Its been all over the public displays..."

"I had other things on my mind!" Misaka protested.

"Ummm-hmmmm..." Saten retorted with a knowing glint in her eye.

"Anyway..." Kuroko cut in, a bit abruptly, before Saten could pounce. She was irritated that Sissy had basically admitted everything she had previously suspected about what she'd been thinking about while off on her own, but she wasn't going to let the conversation be steered around to a certain boy if she could help it. No matter how much Saten and Uiharu liked to gossip and speculate about him, with or without Sissy around to go into conniptions of embarrassment. The less spoken about him, the better. And if she could spare Sissy some embarrassment in the process, so much the better! Maybe she'd feel so grateful she'd be willing to be comforted that night in bed and... Kuroko shook the pleasing dream away. No time to get lost in her own thoughts now!

"Academy City is getting an official visit from the American military!" Saten gushed, apparently willing to be diverted back to her original thought line with minimal effort. "Its part of a wider military exercise they're doing with Japan, but here's the thing! They've got Espers from the American program coming with them! Some group called ACME... I don't recall what it stands for though, but it sounds familiar for some reason..."

"It means American Certified Military Esper." Konori provided, reading from an official fact sheet that had been recently distributed at the office head level by Judgment command. "I didn't know America had an Esper program."

"Most countries have an Esper program, at least the 1st world countries do." Kuroko said in a lecturing tone. "We learned about this in Current Affairs class not so long ago. But none of the programs are anywhere close to as successful as Academy City, since they don't have our technology advantage, and they're mostly directly run by the government and military, rather than being part of scientific research for everyone."

"Yeah..." Misaka agreed slowly, though she could personally think of plenty of parts of Academy City that were much more militaristic in their goals than they were working towards the betterment of everyone. But she was the only one in the office who really knew about that stuff, and she didn't want to drag the others into it.

"Yeah, I heard that too. But apparently there's supposed to be a Level 5 Esper in the ACME delegation!" Saten all but squealed in excitement. "No details yet, but they definitely said that! They're supposed to be here on some kind of program assessment test or something. Maybe even the start of a larger scale exchange program between America and Academy City! That would be so cool! Being able to study abroad in the USA for a semester!"

"Meh." Kuroko said noncommitally. "I don't see what would be so great about it. They're so far behind us technologically... they're still using petroleum fueled vehicles, for crying out loud!" She pinched her nose for emphasis. "Talk about smelly and nasty! Even their cleanest city is a dump compared to here."

"It's not about the cities, Shirai!" Uiharu protested. "If I got to go to the USA, I'd spend as much time as possible in the countryside. They've got so much open space out there! All those national parks and mountains and stuff! Places where you can stand on a hill and look in all directions with a telescope and not see any other people around at all! So much room!"

"That would be pretty cool..." Misaka admitted, with a degree of wistfulness. Having grown up in Japan and Academy City, she really hadn't seen much of the wider world, even though her Father was constantly travelling. She'd always liked to listen to his stories of the exotic places he visited when she was little, but ironically, for all the status being a level 5 gave her within Academy City, it also meant the board of directors weren't all that eager to let her leave the city limits, so getting travel permits was really hard for her.

"Anyway, Judgment is being placed on alert and all our reserve members are being mobilized for assisting with crowd control and general crime prevention duties." Konori explained. "Obviously the city government wants to take this chance to make ourselves look as good as possible to the Americans and the rest of the world. There's a lot of prestige to be gained here. I'm sure there will be encounters between their delegation and our top Espers." She looked pointedly at Misaka as she said that. "And though I really shouldn't say this, we're also being put on alert to watch out for espionage attempts or suspicious persons. The higher ups are sure the Americans would love to steal some of our Power Development ideas and technology if they get the chance. And while Anti-Skill will mostly be handling that, they figure the more eyes on the street, the better. So all of us are going to be spending a lot of time at official functions, or walking the streets looking for anything out of place."

"Awww..." Kuroko sobbed, realizing that she was getting off medical leave just in time to be plunged into working extra shifts of duty. That was going to make it really difficult to hang around with Sissy as much as she wanted to. Though she supposed that since Sissy was the Level 5 who was turned to the most when it came time to represent Academy City, for whatever reason, at least she might be able to spend time with Sissy at the various official functions! The more she thought about it actually, the more attractive the idea seemed. After all, there was no chance in hell that the Troglodyte would be anywhere near those kind of events, since he had no abilities or ranking at all! And Sissy would be too busy with her own duties to spare a thought for that stupid boy! "Heh heh heh..." Kuroko chuckled happily, mood freely swinging from one pole to the other.

"Anyway, that's the big news, but I've heard some other interesting things too!" Saten announced with bubbly pride.

"More urban legends?" Uiharu asked with a despairing sigh.

"Rumors on the street this time. Though with any luck, I'm sure I'll sniff out a few more urban legends soon enough!" Saten replied with great dignity. "There's supposed to be some bigwig super rich reclusive and eccentric tycoon moving to Academy City from Europe. I mean like multi-billionaire rich, and weird too. He's setting up some new company in District 16, and is taking up residence in District 3 while it gets off the ground. Then there's some sort of problem with the city electrical grid, they've been having tons of minor blackouts in the last few days, all over town too. Nobody seems to know what's behind it though." Saten paused, and all four of the other girls looked searchingly at Misaka.

"Don't look at me like that. I don't have anything to do with it!" Misaka insisted, uncomfortable.

"Well you WOULD be the most obvious culprit, Sissy." Kuroko pointed out reasonably, drawing a glare all the same.

"If Misaka isn't the cause, maybe its another Electromaster?" Uiharu suggested. "I'll do some poking around, see what's in the official reports."

"Or maybe its a BUNCH of other Electromasters." Saten opined. "Some of the rumors say that the disturbances are all kinda similar in their effect... maybe its multiple people all doing the same thing?"

"I doubt it..." Misaka said dubiously, though she could not help but think of her Sisters all the same. They were still supposed to be in rehabilitation and in seclusion right now, but if something was up with the dark side of the city, they might be getting involved somehow. She resolved to check in with Dr. Gekota as soon as she could. If something was bothering her little Sisters, then it was definitely time for Big Sis Mikoto to step in and lay down the law!

"There's also supposed to be some sort of creepy stalker lurking around in District 7, following people and hiding on the roofs of buildings." Saten reported, emptying her vaults of rumors. This time, it was four girls staring at Kuroko intently.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Kuroko said primly. "I've been in the hospital, remember? Besides, the only one I want to stalk is Sissy. I have no interest in anyone else."

"That is true." Saten admitted. "Well, that's all I got for moment. You guys wanna catch a movie maybe? Or try out that new bistro by the theatre? I heard the fusion cusine is pretty good there."

"We have to work unfortunately." Uiharu said with a frown, indicating herself and Konori. "And Shirai really should be resting..."

"I'll give a rain check too." Misaka said with an apologetic look. "I have to check with a Doctor I know about something."

"Aw, Sissy, I didn't know you were that worried about me! Kuroko is so pleased!" Kuroko said with happiness.

"Shut up! Its not you I'm worried about..."

"So cruel, Sissy..."


	3. The Mysterious Stranger

**Author Note:**

Barely a day after posting the first chapter and already 7 reviews, and most of those from people who are not of my original fandom. I'm quite pleased with that turnout. It seems there's plenty of people in Index/Railgun fandoms that are as hungry for a good, long, epic storyline as I am. Now the pressure is back on me to provide it for you, which this chapter should help do. Not much really to say so far, so I'll address a few reviews and then get right into the action.

UnknownSoul: I have read the Daihasei arc in the Manga. You're referring to the parts with Mental Out (I can never remember her proper Japanese name), with that one guy who has robotic minions, and the big huge chunk of brain that she's connected to and stuff, if I recall correctly. Those characters will certainly be mentioned, but since they aren't among my focus characters for this first arc or two anyway, those events won't be shown in any limelight or particularly referenced.

Akki: Way too descriptive... there's no such animal, in my opinion. I may use exposition a bit much for some people, but generally I would prefer to over-describe than under-describe a situation or scene. Few things annoy me more than reading a story where the whole thing is a series of one line dialogues or the like. And though I realize most of you probably know far more about the setting than me, and don't need to have details rehashed like I do, I do it for the purpose of establishing the world as the character sees it, to promote fuller immersion in the story and characters.

Amion: ACME is fully intentional in all respects. As you will see once you see some of the ACME Espers and perhaps do a little poking around in their name etymology. Likewise, the Russian EKG, or Esper Kontrmery Gruppa, organization is both acryonym and tongue in cheek reference (as anyone who'se ever had a heart test might know). I did forget about Ozone actually, thanks for reminding me. Kind of inexcusable, given how that very thing is used in a battle in canon between a Sister and Accelerator.

Oh, and these first 6-7 chapters fit under the "Calm Before the Storm Arc". Those who are familiar with Reclamation War in Gundam Seed will probably recognize my chapter naming schemes to help demark major storyline arcs.

xxxx

 **Academy City, District 19, September 26th, Early Morning**

The flash of the sun breaching the horizon, a brilliant orange light like a flare announcing the dawn, filtered into the upper floors of one of the taller derelict buildings in District 19, painting the broken and graffiti laced concrete with lurid shades of crimson and ochre. For all the fiery hue of the light, the day dawned cold and somewhat blustery, as fitted for a city in the temperate reaches of the world during autumn. The figure curled into a corner of one of the broken and battered office suites on the penultimate floor of the decrepit building stirred slowly as the light beamed into his head. The multiple lenses of the goggles perched on his temples burned gold with the reflected light as he pushed himself up off the floor, yawning thunderously, stretching his arms over his head and legs out before him as he struggled to wring the lethargy of a night spent in the cold and on hard floor from his body. His heavy, insulated felt trench coat had helped preserve his body heat enough that he had not been in any particular distress during the night, but he still felt stiff after so many hours curled on the concrete. It wasn't the first time he'd slept rough though, and he was pretty sure it wouldn't be his last either, especially while on this particular expedition.

Lowering his arms, the figure patted his voluminous coat, searching through various pockets and pouches sewn into its inner and outer surfaces, until he found a small canteen, kept filled with water from one of the many public fountains in the city. Another pocket yielded a small foil packet of powdered Energy drink mix, which he quickly poured into the canteen, screwing the cap shut and shaking it thoroughly to mix. A few processed nutrient Power bars rounded out his morning repast, and he allowed himself a single treat, a bright blue Shock tart, as dessert. As always, he shivered and twitched as the deliciously tart candy sparked and fizzled on his tongue, his eyes opening fully for the first time, wiping crud from the corners with the back of his fingers, revealing expressive, curious and almost naive hazel eyes. Yawning again, he cleaned up the detrius of breakfast and stood, stocking clad feet cool on the bare concrete floor. No time to be a slugabed. Especially as he had taken residence in this building the night before without informing the rather rough looking group of college age delinquents who seemed to be its landlords by fiat, and he didn't want to be evicted forcefully should some come up to enjoy the beautiful sunrise.

He was Albert Nikolai Joule, better known in some circles of the wider world by the moniker Tesla451, and he was what most people might term a Magician, though personally he disdained such an archaic terminology. He saw himself as an Innovator, delving deep into the mysteries of the world, with a rigorously applied, if somewhat customized, scientific method of research. Plumbing the hidden laws of the universe. Like the Laws of Aetheric Expulsion, which he himself had discovered. And the Magnetic Discombobulation Rule, another of his early discoveries. And of course, one could never ignore the almighty Principle of Ostentatious Energetic Multiplication and its many applicable properties! And even if nobody else seemed to be able to understand his theorems, much less replicate his research in a modern laboratory, surely that wasn't his fault for being an instinctive genius, who walked his own, somewhat crooked path of scientific revelation!

Yes, he'd been laughed at when he was younger. They'd all told him that his work was pure fantasy, science, but only in the way of science fiction! But then again, he reassured himself constantly, a visionary was rarely recognized in his own time. And they were wrong anyway. His inventions worked just fine, it was just the principles by which they worked could not be defined or understood by mainstream science, and mainstream science was a bunch of hoity-toity dickholes about their monopoly on understanding the universe, sadly. But he'd sure show them! He was getting closer and closer to perfecting his masterpiece with each passing day! It wouldn't be too much longer before the Perpetual Dynamo prototype was completed! And then it would only be a matter of scaling up production, and he would have solved one of the greatest issues of the modern era... the production of unlimited, environmentally clean energy! They'd HAVE to recognize him then!

Alas, while his theories were all completed, all the math worked out, it was now a matter of materials engineering and procuration... he could build a Perpetual Dynamo just fine, as the backpack mounted Mark 107 on the floor by his legs was proof. Unfortunately, the brass, iron, silver and copper materials just couldn't bear up under the stresses the Dynamo produced as part of its operation, and though the Dynamo itself could theoretically run forever, its physical casing would burn out in a matter of months at its current state of engineering. And even that was only possible by drastically reducing the Aetheric Spinnerator Gyroscopes and Flux Capacitors to their minimal settings, drastically reducing the power output per unit time of the Dynamo. At the current point, a Perpetual Dynamo with enough power output to power a modern city for eternity would be the size of a dozen sport stadiums, and that was hardly the sort of cost effective proposal that would earn him fame and recognition! He'd exhausted all the potential materials sources in his native USA and come up with nothing better than the current Mark 107.

And that was why he had set out on the epic journey to Academy City, the heart of the scientific world, where technology was supposed to be 30 years or more ahead of the rest of the world. If anyplace on Earth would have the materials he needed to build a Perpetual Dynamo Mark 108, it would have to be Academy City! It had been a hard trip. His age was something of a hinderance for long distance travel, since most people of his age were supposed to be in school. Due to unfortunate circumstances relating to some of his early, less controlled experiments in Energetic Agitation Theory, he was also somewhat out of the good graces of most US Law Enforcement agenecies, which ruled out most legitimate forms of travel. Eventually he'd had to stow away on an oceanic freighter, which had turned what should have been a trip of a few days into a voyage of weeks as it took a circuitous route around the Pacific before finally arriving in Japan. At least it allowed him some time to work all the kinks out of his personal equipment though.

Getting into Academy City was not easy either, as he had no interest in their stringent identification procedures... some of his experiments in Compounded Energetic Agitation Theory could possibly have put him on some international watch lists. People were so sensitive about the necessary missteps that were part of a robust scientific advancement program! All that fuss over a few holes in the ground, and the odd sheared off cliff face. How was it his fault if the best place to conduct the experiment was in the gorge next to that hydroelectric facility in the desert? Stupid national landmark... everything always got blown up out of proportion when one of those was involved, even when he HADN'T blown it up, regardless of what the news said. It was much more like a chained molecular disintegration or matter implosion really. Exciting stuff, CEA Theory, he'd have to look into it again once he conquered limitless power production.

Fortunately, not all sectors of Academy City were equally well protected, and District 19 in particular was full of security gaps, with the largely delinquent population having broken most of the passive security systems, for reasons of their own, and their violent reputation kept most forms of active security away as well. Once you got over that stupidly huge wall, something that was simplicity itself for someone in possession of a pair of Gyroscopically Attuned Monopole Assisted Mobility Augmentation Boots, and he was a proud owner and designer of a Mark 4 version of those, it was just a matter of disappearing into the urban sprawl of the city. Of course, he lacked money and identification, so he couldn't stay at any of the normal accomodation facilities in the city, but someone who was used to being called a Quack or even "Mad Scientist" by peer review, was also someone who was probably used to roughing it in the urban sprawl from time to time. Luckily, at least there was no language barrier... after perusing hundreds of Japan's quaint animated historical fiction TV shows, Albert had taught himself Japanese to better research the material. They were headed in the right direction with their giant warfighting schoolchild piloted automaton programs, as far as he could tell, but they lacked the proper scientific knowledge to make them reality as depicted in their conceptual TV programs. That was something he planned to one day correct.

Stamping his feet into his GAMARA Boots, Albert laboriously locked the double dozen buckles and security straps that ensure he would not fall out of the boots, regardless of what sort of aerobatics he might be forced to indulge in... lack of such stringent safety precautions had haunted his testings of Mark 1 and Mark 2 of the GAMARA program. He shrugged into the carrying frame for the Perpetual Dynamo and buckled that into place too, before connecting the power feeds from the Dynamo to the GAMARA Boots, as well as his Aetheric Identification and Marking, or AIM goggles; Energetic Reduction Garment, aka the ERG Jacket; utility belt and his two different gauntlets. The left hand was his AMP, or Absorbing and Manipulating Protector, and the right hand was his WATT, or Widespread Aetheric Transmission Tool. He glanced down at the utility belt and saw that all the diode indicators for the aether-voltaic energy cells built into the backpack were at full charge, trickle powered by the Perpetual Dynamo itself. Everything was in order, and nothing had exploded or caught fire while powering up... always an encouraging sign.

And not a moment too soon, it seemed, as the various beeps, whoops, jangles, whizzes and bangs that accompanied his equipment's power up routine, necessary according to the Principle of Ostentatious Energetic Multiplication, which allowed the relatively small AV cells to provide so much energy out for such relatively little energy in, had unfortunately alerted the other occupants of the building to his presence. He could hear them storming up the stairways, shouting and hollering like a mob with torches and pitchforks come to storm his lab. Not that such had ever occured to him personally, but Albert was a great student of the legendary Volatic Alchemical Masters, like Frankenstein, and he always strove to bear in mind the lessons taught by that great man's life... and death. Once the natives started getting restless, it was definitely time to tip his goggles and stroll on off to greener pastures. He headed for the roof, since it was doubtful he'd be able to bypass his temporary and unsuspecting landlords on the stairways.

Albert had to admire their athleticism... barely had he reached the roof, than the accessway doors burst open behind him, spilling a unruly crowd of rough looking specimens of young adult humanity onto the roof behind him. Clad in ragged school uniforms with the arms ripped off, as well as a variety of T shirts, hoodies and other garments common to rebellious youth in various colors, they spread out around him, brandishing a wicked looking collection of junkyard scraps, pipes, chains, small edged blades, etc, in a menacing performance indeed. Tourist brochures advertised Academy City as the safest city in the world, no doubt to attract parents who would send their children there, but in Albert's admittedly limited experience, there were plenty of parts of Academy City that were just as dangerous, if not more dangerous, than any American city he'd lived in. And given the difficulty in acquiring, and more importantly keeping a secret research laboratory in this day and age, especially without government or official backing... he'd lived in most of them at one point or another.

Negotiations would probably be pointless, he reasoned. He had no money to give them as a toll, and he certainly couldn't afford for any of his equipment to be stolen or damaged. For that matter, he had intruded upon their territory without permission, and might have woken a good portion of them up from a hungover and much needed rest, judging by the number of beady, bloodshot and wincing eyes amongst the group. He flicked his goggles down over his eyes, the precision forged smoked aether-crystal lenses giving him the ability to see all forms of electromagnetic radiation and other aetheric energies. The world turned dark and grey and black, with energy patterns lightning up living beings and powered appliances in crackling fountains of multicolored sparks. His accosters burned neon green with the potent energies of bio-electrical impulses, the energy of life. There were none of the prismatic swirls of energy that proclaimed the presence of an Master of Aetheric Generation and Expulsion, aka a Mage, not that such were common here in Academy City. There was even a surprising absence of any of the odd greyscale energy distortion waveform patterns that marked the presence of what was called an Esper. No, these were just regular people as far as the AIM goggles could discern.

Green sparks flared, as one of his accosters pounced forward, bioelectrical commands running up and down his nervous system as he swung a wooden club of some sort at Albert's head. Not desiring to have his peerless brain splattered all over the roof, Albert ducked under the roundhouse swing, and reached out with his right gauntlet, subtle finger twitches manipulating the sensitive controls embedded into the inner surfaces of the heavily reinforced and insulated glove. No need to get all bent out of shape, even over a murder attempt, as Albert was a trespasser after all, so he used a minimal setting on the WATT, equivalent to perhaps 150,000 volts from a stungun, channeling the Aetheric power into the form of electrical conduction, vivid blue sparks invading his assailant's body through the shadowy vision of his AIM Goggles, overwhelming the healthy green of bioelectrical impulse, and dropping the Skill-Out to the ground in a twitching, slightly singed heap.

"It's a fucking ability user!" Several members of the gang shouted, as the mood turned even more ugly, if that was possible. After all, if there was one thing every member of Skill-Out didn't like, it was high and mighty Espers! They crowded forward, confident in their numbers, knowing that most Espers couldn't handle multiple opponents at once. "Get him! Fuck him up! Fucking Esper! You don't know who you're messing with! Kill the spiky haired freak!" The gang roared, exultant at having one of their hated foes trapped on the roof of their own base.

"So be it..." Albert sighed, flexing the WATT into a fist, disengaging discouragement protocols and engaging combat protocols. Slots on the Dynamo pack opened up, revealing a insanely complicated internal mashup of spinning gears, crackling electrical tubes and pumping miniature pistons inside... seemingly far more than could realistically fit into a backpack. Bulbous tipped rods wrapped in overlapping corrugated electrical wires rose out of the slots and locked into place, as vrulent purple-blue lightning began to crawl up and down the Tesla coils, jumping from node to node around the backpack, until a veritable halo of electromotive force burned at Albert's back. His ERG jacket grounded out the occasional lick of lightning that strayed from the containment fields the Dynamo produced, sparks cascading unnoticed from his shoulders and hips. Static electricity built along his body, his spiked hair, gelled with electrosensitive products, bristling even more upright, rising like the hackles of a wolf and rippling in an invisible Aetheric breeze. Waving tendrils of pure electrical force snapped and arced from the surface of the AIM goggles, until the smokey lenses looked like the heart of a thunderstorm in full fury.

Ducking and dodging swinging weapons, knocking aside punches and kicks with his left hand, Albert plunged into the heart of the gang, already calculating the quickest and most efficient means of escaping his current predicament. Compared to many of his so called magical peers, Albert's life hadn't been that rough or tragic... he'd gotten into his profession more from curioisity than because he was driven by some form of revenge or lust for power or desire to become personally stronger to protect something. But his life had been far from easy also, all the moreso because he refused to join any of the Cabals that were so ubiquitous in magic society... he preferred to pursue his own path, for his own reasons. All this meant that even at the tender age of 16, he was a veteran of many combats, most of them against far more deadly opponents than a Skill-Out gang. He preffered to use his magitechnology for defense and offense, but he'd picked up his fair share of street fighting skills as well.

Of course he couldn't dodge or block everything, but that was where the ERG Jacket came into play. It reduced all forms of energetic impact, be it thermal, electrical or even kinetic, through use of an integral aetheric field that was modulated by nodes within the jacket. It was primarily geared towards electrical insulation, protecting him from the occasional miscalculation in the operation of his equipment, but it was still a superior form of armor compared to what most militaries and police forces issued their soldiers against other forms of attack. He could still feel the hits, but it was like being kicked by a toddler, rather than beaten by an adult... annoying but not really painful. Reaching the center of the gang, Albert lifted his right arm, a glowing, crackling sphere of ball lightning forming in the palm of the WATT gauntlet, spitting sparks in all directions. A thunderclap bellowed, slamming the top of the building as massive spears of electrical force exploded in all directions from the nodal ball, earthing through the packed Skill-Outs and blowing them off their feet, muscles locked and teeth grinding as they writhed under the electrocution, flopping like beached fish!

Albert slapped his left palm over his right, the AMP sucking the remaining energy from the attack back into his AV cells, cutting it off before he actually killed the poor bastards rather than knocking them for a loop. Still, none of them would be getting up any time soon, though he reckoned he ought to vacate the premises rapidly all the same. That thunderclap hadn't exactly been inconspicuous after all, and the last thing he needed was official investigation from the Academy City government! He headed for the side of the roof, and flexed his toes inside his boots, activating the GAMARA system. With a small rush of adrenaline, even though he'd done this hundreds of times before, Albert stepped off the side of the roof. He did not plummet to the ground, the GAMARA system using aetheric currents and a shielded monopole node to alter his degree of interaction with the planet's magnetic field, repelling him from the surface with enough force to prevent him from falling. Steel plates in the soles of the boots gave him a stable platform to stand on, as he casually walked to a nearby roof, the sensation somewhat like walking on a thick rubber sheet on the surface of a body of water. A little slippery, but certainly not impossible to traverse.

Varying the degree of aetheric current and how unshielded the monopole node was, he could alter his altitude to climb or descend. The built in gyroscopes helped him keep his balance and allowed him to alter the slope of his interaction with various magnetic fields, which could speed up or slow down his horizontal motions, like running up or down hill would. He headed for the ground, several blocks away. Time to hit the safari again, in search of his new materials, in whatever natural habitat they might have. And to just check out the city... this place was a utopia for every scientist in the world. Even those who were mad scientists...

xxxx

 **District 15, Afternoon**

"This place is so amazing!" Albert gushed, to no one in particular, as he stepped off the elevated tram car and took stock of his new surroundings, the towering buildings all around, the throngs of pedestrians, and the technological marvels that were everywhere if one but had the eyes to see. He was practically skipping with excitement as he headed down the steps from the tram station to street level, head swiveling around on his neck like a gyroscoping targeting array. He was dimly aware that he was drawing stares from passerby, but he'd long since grown inured to that. A scientist was rarely fashionable after all, and he prized efficiency of operation and function over aesthetics when designing his equipment anyway. This was his first time being outside of the United States, and it sure was an eye opener!

A driverless bus passed him on the street, and he threw it a starry eyed glance. His own tastes ran more towards clockwork and steam lines for automaton purposes, but he could definitely admire the digital engineering of the various AI units that Academy City used for public transportation, public safety and waste disposal. He was kinda thankful for it even... with a little modification of his WATT, a simple touch on the side of an robo-bus gave him free passage pretty much anywhere in the city, and without leaving any records of his presence. A subtle aetheric field projected by his utility belt rendered him invisible to the various cameras and other automated sensor systems that sprouted in various places throughout most of the city. This field had the slight side effect of introducing a constant static charge to his surroundings. Most usually Albert noted this side effect in the way it permeated the skirts of the schoolgirls around him, and made the flannel garments stick most pleasingly to their thighs and posteriors. Ahh, static cling... every socially reclusive scientist's best friend in a crowd of cute girls.

It wasn't something he usually got to see much of in the US, where school uniforms were the exception, rather than the rule, and where there generally wasn't such a high population of students on the street, even after school was out. He figured that was because most US schools were in suburbs or otherwise removed in distance from where students lived, and that most sudents lived in homes with their families, rather than dorms, and that the USA mostly lacked a widespread system of safe and free public transportation in its cities. It was definitely a different culture here, and one he was enjoying experiencing. It was so nice not to need a personal car to get anywhere outside of your own neighborhood. And he most definitely approved of the apparently universal decision in this city to require girl's uniforms to incorporate skirts instead of pants, even in winter. Not that he would do anything so churlish as to STARE, of course. Or not too much anyway. But he appreciated the "living background" of this city a lot more than he did other places he'd visited or lived.

His attention was briefly drawn to a girl a year or two younger than him, who seemed to be looking at him with a slightly disbelieving look on her face, on the opposite side of the street from him. She was wearing a tan jacket, over a white shirt with a cute red bow at her neck, and a blue plaid skirt that was shorter than most, though certainly enough to cover her modesty. Short chestnut hair, brown eyes, an athletic figure, long legs, small chest... Albert forced himself to keep his head on a swivel without stopping to stare back at her. Normally Albert's only thoughts about the female of the species were abstract aesthetic enjoyment, but he could admit he had a bit of a thing for the so called tomboy classification, and that girl was in danger of flipping some of his contact switches... a distraction he could not afford right now, as he was on a mission of scientific discovery after all!

Shaking his head clear of biological distractions, Albert walked on, drinking in the ambience of the most advanced city in the world. In some ways, actually, it was kind of disappointing. He'd been expecting a lot more to be honest. For a place that was supposed to be 3 decades more advanced than anywhere else on Earth, it really wasn't that obvious. There were the robotic buses and cleaning units, and the TV blimps and such, but that was about all that was visible to someone on the street. The stores sold tech that was certainly high quality, but not any better than a top end store in New York, as far as he could tell. The products themselves weren't anything new or innovative either, household appliances, entertainment systems, personal electronics, etc. Where were the virtual reality videogames? The holographic displays? The implantable cell phones? The personal jetpacks and flying cars? Definitely a let down. If he was in charge, he would definitely be doing things differently.

Every so often, he would slip his AIM goggles down over his eyes to inspect a piece of tech or a promising seeming chunk of materials, evaluating the physical and aether-conducive properties as he went. In this he'd been largely disappointed as well, as most of the materials he could find on the street were the same as he could find anywhere in the USA, aside from a couple of new plastics, which unfortunately were not robust or conducive enough to qualify for incorporation into the Perpetual Dynamo. He grimaced, remembering the 50 series Dynamos, when he'd experimented with synethics and polymers and other petroleum processed materials. They had not been some of his better models, very prone to melting or exploding or catching fire, and releasing toxic fumes to boot. Not environmentally friendly. Or conducive to his health and longevity. No, it was in good solid metals and crystals that he was placing his hope.

He also conducted occasional experiments on the city infrastructure with his AMP gauntlet, checking to see if there was anything new or exciting in the way energy and power was distributed and generated around the city. He approved of the many wind turbines scattered throughout the city, as they were a renewable energy source, though not anywhere even close to the scale of what his Perpetual Dynamo was. He'd based some of his very earliest models of Dynamo off the principles of wind turbines, and though he'd long since discarded any attempts at using mainstream science to achieve his dreams, he had to credit them for at least sparking his curiousity in the first place. The AMP gauntlet did precisely what its description said... it allowed him to Absorb and Manipulate energies, especially those electrical in nature, while Protecting him from harm. He drained power from battery systems, checked the powerflow capacity of electrical distribution lines, and checked the strength of fuses and other protective safety systems, simply by laying his hand on an electrical item, or at times on a wall or the ground, where many electrical cables ran close to the surface.

Largely he remained unimpressed, as it was very easy to brown out or even black out every system he tested. Poor quality power storage and power generation systems, as far as he could tell. He felt his sense of disillusionment growing... maybe mainstream science was really reaching the limits of its capability after all, if THIS was what 30 extra years of advancement brought, granting no real discernable advantage over current power generation and storage systems elsewhere in the world. It was all inferior to the Perpetual Dynamo and Aether-Voltaic Cells he used for his own equipment. Or maybe it was his own perceptions and assumptions that were at fault, Albert scolded himself. Perhaps he'd bought into the city's hype a little too strongly, put too much stock in the boasts of its advertising brochures and its rumored reputation. He'd come expecting a scientific El Dorado, streets paved with marvels of reason and intellect and human accomplishment, and clearly that wasn't the case. But Academy City had its reputation for a reason all the same.

That meant he simply had to be looking in the wrong place! He would have to expand his search zone, step off the beaten path, and stop expecting his dreams to fall into his lap just walking down the street. Fresh resolve filled him, and he set off with a determined bounce in his stride once again. He'd have to start poking his nose into parts of the city that he'd avoided before, such as research labs and government buildings. Riskier, but potentially more rewarding. He was hoping he'd be able to get in and get out without stirring up a confrontation with the Authorities, or being noticed by any of his Magician rivals or enemies. Every day he lingered, that grew less and less likely, and poking the city authorities in the eye with a stick by probing into their secret research centers wouldn't help either. But if that was what he had to do to get the materials he needed, so be it.

Turning off the sidewalk, Albert headed into an alley, sidestepping trash cans and air conditioning units as he tromped onwards, heading away from the commercial distract and back into the central school district. The alleys were a maze, a veritable labyrinth, and Albert wasn't too proud to admit that he got lost on more than one occasion. But that in itself was actually a misnomer... as he did not know his destination in the first place, and had no set point of origin, he could never be lost. He would simply have to wander until he either found what he was looking for, or found another spot to rest during the night before picking up the quest again the next day. Time passed, it was hard to tell how much... his Universal Metrognomic Clockwork Timepiece had been on the fritz ever since he tried to calibrate it on the Dynamo's internal system clock out of boredom during his voyage across the pacific. A couple of hours perhaps. Albert grew warm under his jacket, but was proud to note that he felt few signs of physical weariness, even with his heavy equipment and the Dynamo on his back. No limp wristed lab technician was he! He was a scientist in the vein of Jules Vern and Frankenstein, not afraid to get his hands dirty and his legs weary.

Reaching an open park, he slipped his goggles on again and scanned back and forth, searching for any clues about a good direction to wander in next. A surge of electrical fields from behind a copse of trees drew his eye. They weren't powerful, but they were isolated from anything he could detect that would be emitting electrical energy in such a fashion. He could detect an energy receptacle, some sort of battery he judged, but no power lines or wind turbine that would be responsible for emitting electrical power. Intrigued, he set out in that direction, following the brick path around the copse until he could check out the situation with his biological eyes. Unfortunately, this offered little in the way of enlightenment. The battery was clearly within the large, boxy red drink vending machine, but the only other thing of note in view was a student, about Albert's own age, dressed in the dark button jacket and long pants that served males as a school uniform in the city. He had the common features of the predominant asian population, dark hair, asiatic complexion, dark eyes, a little on the short and pudgy side, but far from the obesity that often inflicted some American teens.

The student wore an expression of frustration and bemusement, as he kept reaching out with his hands and laying them on the machine, nowhere near its operational controls, and furrowing his brow in concentration. He seemed oblivious to everything else around him, including Albert's presence behind him a few feet away. Albert double checked his goggles, and confirmed, as he suspected, that the bursts of electrical power were coming from the student somehow. The aetheric signature was definitely of an Esper, the greyscale waveforms were unmistakable. Of course Albert knew what Espers were, it was impossible not to, but he hadn't ever considered them, or been interested in them or how their so called abilities worked, as those were disciplines of mainstream science. But seeing this student, wearing nothing but their school uniform, and a personal cell phone, and tapping into no forms of aetheric energy reserve or physical power source, generate electrical power as if simply willing it into existence, gave Albert something of a Eureka moment!

"You! How are you doing that? I must know!" Albert demanded of the student loudly, clearly startling the other boy, given by how he jumped and spun around, hands raised, almost guiltily, before seeing that Albert was not accosting him from a position of authority.

"Don't scare me like that! I thought you were Judgment!" The young man retorted, combing his hair back into place, before squinting as he looked the strange boy who'd confronted him up and down. "you're not from around these parts are you...?" He asked doubtfully.

"I'm from America." Albert said proudly.

"I can tell." The student replied disdainfully. "American Gaijin tourists always dress weird. And they're always loud and rude."

"Forget that!" Albert urged. "Tell me what you were doing! And how you were accomplishing it!"

"Ugh." The student rolled his eyes in disgust. "This is why we don't like tourists. I'm an Esper, geez, how else do you think?"

"Espers possess the ability to generate pure electrical energy simply by thinking about it?" Albert was aghast at the idea. After all, if Espers could simply produce power whenever they wanted to, what was the use of a Perpetual Dynamo for unlimited energy? His masterpiece wasn't even done yet and it might already be obsolete!? The Horror! The Horror!

"No... kinda... maybe..." The student replied with his brow furrowed. "Hold on, who ARE you anyway?"

"My name is Albert Nikolai Joule. I'm here on a voyage of discovery and revelations." Albert replied quickly, eager to get back into the technical explanations. Social interactions were so boring!

"Kentaro Rei." The student replied, somewhat warily. "I'm a high school student... I don't think I'll tell you where. You seem kinda sketchy. What's with the cosplay outfit? You one of those people who thinks Japan is wall to wall Otakus or something?"

"This is all necessary scientific equipment!" Albert protested the characterization indignantly. "Stop evading my question! How are you doing that? Why are you doing that?"

"The how is complicated. Do you understand Personal Reality?" Kentaro asked. "We Espers manipulate our Personal Realities to gain our abilities..."

"Esper's can alter the weave of REALITY!?" Albert moaned, his despair growing. He'd of course considered Reality altering experiments in the past, but the calculated energy required to fuel such work was in excess of anything he could possibly generate until the Perpetual Dynamo was perfected, and even then it wouldn't be easy! Yet this boy, this simple high school student, spoke of casually altering Reality like it was normal, even expected! No wonder so many on the Magic side were leery of Academy City!

"Not all of it, calm down!" Kentaro sighed in exasperation. Just his luck, to be accosted by some airheaded American tourist. It was really cutting into his practice time too! "Look, I don't understand it perfectly myself, but I know that Esper power is an expression of Personal Reality, based on the Schrodinger Principle. We can make the world act differently for us just be believing in it enough, though even our abilities have to conform to the laws of physics. I'm an Electromaster, but I don't create electrical energy out of nothing, I amplify what the body naturally produces and what I can gather from the environment around me. And then I control it by altering the polarity and ionization of objects around me to guide the flow of current. Its very math intensive, probably over your head..."

"You might be surprised." Albert retorted, but he was indeed calmer. This wasn't the disaster it first appeared to be, if Kentaro was telling the truth, and he seemed open enough. If the Esper had to draw and amplify their energy from natural sources, then the Principle of Ostentatious Energetic Multiplication must be in play somewhere, even if the mainstream scientists would never admit it. And since the Esper did not generate energy, but rather transformed what they had, that meant they would be limited in overall production, probably by fatigue or personal breakdown. The Perpetual Dynamo was still feasible, since it did not wear down over time, at least it wouldn't once it was perfected! Still it was bothersome that an Electromaster Esper could accomplish a weaker version of the Dynamo function, without any equipment at all! Bothersome, but also potentially very useful. If he could decode and understand, then replicate, how an Electromaster amplified ambient energy without any equipment at all, he might be able to drastically increase the power output of the Dynamo in a safer manner!

"You've got a creepy look on your face, dude..." Kentaro pointed out.

"Fascinating. So fascinating! A whole new line of research I never even suspected existed!" Albert announced with pleasure. "You simply MUST let me study you more closely!"

"Dude, no way!" Kentaro backed up, crossing his arms in front of him disgustedly. "I ain't into guys, and I have enough on my plate just getting my level up high enough to earn some legitimate research grants from the city to explore my power applications..."

"Oh, so that's what you were doing. Training to increase your energetic manipulation and amplification potential?" Albert mused. He eyed the vending machine again. "Show me again, please. This is so interesting!"

"Yeeaaahhh..." Kentaro looked around, but couldn't see any good way to effect an escape. And he didn't want to turn his back on this weirdo right now. He looked like he might be a hugger. And that would just be awful. "I heard a rumor that this machine can be tricked to give you free drinks if you mess around with it a little. But I haven't had much luck with it yet, no matter how much voltage I shoot into it. Look." Kentaro laid his hand on the machine and furrowed his brow again, sparks leaping between his fingers and crawling over the area around his hand. "See? Nothing's happening. I must not be strong enough yet. I'm only a level 3 after all."

"Try that one more time." Albert encouraged intensely, sliding his goggles down over his eyes again for a different perspective.

"You are one seriously creepy dude." Kentaro replied, trying not to think about where the tourist was looking with his eyes covered by those goggles. He'd heard of people who liked electrical stimulation for foreplay, but never someone that got off on watching someone try and shock free drinks out of a vending machine. Still, he guessed it was harmless enough as long as the guy kept his distance. He released another jolt into the machine, with the same zero result. "Good enough?"

"I understand the problem now." Albert replied seriously, his goggles having revealed what could not be seen by the naked eye. "This particular vending machine functions on almost entirely mechanical and hydraulic principles. The battery is only for the display light and heating elements, I'm afraid. There's no electrical circuits for you to disrupt in this manner. Might I suggest applying kinetic energy instead?"

"You mean like kicking it?" Kentaro rolled his eyes again. "Please, if it was that easy, everyone would do it. But the rumor says that you have to be a powerful electromaster to game this machine. The one who apparently pioneered the technique is the Railgun! The fucking RAILGUN!"

"Railguns do apply a significant degree of kinetic disruption on impact you know." Albert pointed out. He studied the vending machine in bemusement. Its apparent materials of construction seemed to be primarily plastics with some aluminum... he couldn't figure how it would be anything but tiny pieces after being hit with a railgun shot.

"No, not A railgun, THE Railgun! Geez, you really must be new in the city! The Ace of Tokiwadai? Hello, the most powerful Electromaster in the world, the 3rd ranked level 5 of Academy City... ringing any bells, Gaijin?"

"Can't say it does." Albert admitted with a shrug. Hey, like he should keep track of the names of students in a tiny little blip of a city halfway around the world? Academy City's 2.3 million residents would disappear if dropped into any of half a dozen US cities without a ripple.

"Ok, well, she's like a goddess to all the Electromasters in the city. Even though she's younger than me. She makes my power look like a single spark falling off a broken light bulb!" Kentaro explained. "Not only that, but she's one of those super rich princess types who go to Tokiwadai, the most exclusive girl's school in the whole city! Wealth, smarts and power, all in a middle schooler. It ain't fair, man. She's the epitome of all Electromasters!"

"She sounds fascinating." Albert decided contemplatively.

"Don't even dream about it, dude. She's way out of your league, just like mine. Besides, I heard that any guy that tries to get close to her ends up in the hospital with a metal spike through his junk, courtesy of her hyper-protective girlfriend. Some sort of love-hate relationship going on there, or something. Its not like I've ever seen her in person or anything, so I wouldn't know. Tokiwadai's not exactly a place a guy can just casually hang out by, since its in the School Garden and all..." Kentaro warned the tourist guy.

"No! Not that kind of fascinating! Scientifically fascinating! I'll have to study her very closely!"

"Whatever floats your boat, dude. Just don't blame me when you end up in the hospital. Now I've gotta get going. You better not try to follow me, you wierdo. I may not be able to conquer this vending machine, but one touch from me will have you dancing a 50,000 volt jig all the same!" Kentaro warned, edging away from the tourist.

"You have given me much food for thought. I thank you." Albert bowed in the Japanese manner to show his gratitude. By the time he rose, Kentaro was already nearly out of sight, running flat out as if he was being chased by something. "Japanese people are sure different from Americans sometimes..." Albert muttered, before shrugging it away. He began to walk again, lost in thought once more. This Railgun girl could be the ideal research subject. He would have to see about meeting her and securing her cooperation for a very close program of investigation into how her body worked, and how it interacted with her power.

So involved was he in this line of thought, that Albert hadn't even noticed night beginning to fall on the city, as he walked idle circuits through the central school district, district 7. He was in a section of multiple story dormitory buildings when his growling stomach finally snapped him out of his thoughts. Movement from nearby drew his gaze, as he saw a young couple walking up the stairs to one of the dormitories. Or at least he presumed they were a couple, from the way the girl, wearing some sort of white bathrobe or something, was crawling all over the guy, who had spiky black hair. She seemed to be biting him over and over again for some reason, even as she clung to him and climbed all over him in a way that seemed more than a little erotic. "And I thought Japanese said American's are shameless!" Albert exclaimed in shock, his face flushing with embarrassment! "Get a DAMN ROOM you perverts!" He shouted over his shoulder as he turned and retreated at top speed, using the GAMARA system to alter his magnetic slope interactions so he could run faster. He glanced over his shoulder only once, only to see the silver haired girl looking after him with mild bemusement for some reason, before she went back to her oral fixation with her partner.


	4. The Returning Hero

**Author Note:** Glad people liked Albert Nikolai Joule, at least so far. I had plenty of fun writing him, and especially all of his equipment names, which are either sci-fi movie references (Gamara, the flying atomic turtle) or electrical references (Amp, Erg, Watt, etc) for the most part. I do like my mad scientists after all. And I thought it would be interesting to make a Magic Side character with powers similar to that of our favorite Science side female protagonist, see how both sides can approach the same sort of power in vastly different ways. And for that matter, showing a somewhat different from the usual brand of Magic, and perhaps most importantly, NOT obsessed over using Index for some purpose. I have not yet decided on which side he will fall, or if he will even have a side at all. I kinda like the idea of him as a rogue protagonist, who pursues his own plans, regardless of the mighty clashing of titanic organizations and shadow interests around him. All we know for sure right now is that he would definitely like to have an up close and personal study session with Misaka... however will she handle such attention, I wonder, especially from someone with powers so similar to hers, and given her traumatic experiences with people wanting to study her power and how she produces it?

If anyone is interested in character theme music, Lord Izarde's theme song is Lux Aeterna, by Clint Mansell. I'm sure you can find it on youtube.

xxxx

 **Tokyo, Narita International Airport, September 26th, Early Evening**

"Such misfortune..." A certain spiky haired whipping boy of fate and destiny bemoaned, quietly, as he felt the gentle bump that came with the jet's wheels hitting the tarmac at Tokya-Narita Airport. He had THOUGHT something was strange, with the windfall of winning an all expenses paid trip for two to Italy for a week occurring during the Daihasei. As he knew all too well, his luck did not tend to work like that. It figured that the vacation would end up spiraling into a mess sooner rather than later, and now here they were, barely a day into the vacation time, and already touching back down on Japanese soil! Well, he reflected with a slight smile, in the end he couldn't complain to much this time around. The events he and Index had more or less stumbled into in Italy had been both fantastical and potentially seriously problematic for the balance of power between Magic and Science. The fleet of magic ice ships, controlled by the vessel known as the Queen of the Adriatic Sea, which that crazy Roman Catholic Bishop was going to try and use to destroy Academy City once and for all. Thankfully, he, along with some surprise help from Agnese and her battle-nuns, and the Amakusa church, managed to stop that plan dead in the water... har har har. No, that pun was just as bad as when he'd first thought of it. Apparently his ill fortune even extended to being unable to make jokes about it.

But regardless of his bad luck, at least some good things had managed to come out of the fiasco, and for that he was glad. Agnese and her friends had been living in virtual slavery aboard the ice ships, and millions of innocent people would have been killed if the Adriatic Queen and her fleet had managed to attack Academy City. Losing his vacation time was no sacrifice at all to remedy that kind of situation. The inevitable injuries and wounds were not something he begrudged either. Like it or not, he had a unique power, and he considered it his duty and responsibility to use it to fight evil, or the misguided, wherever he encountered them. Because that was simply the right thing to do. And since he had the strength to put his convictions to the test, he accepted the consequences of his various interventions without recriminations or second guessing. Though it would be good to get back to Academy City and have Heaven Canceler check over the work the Italian doctors had done all the same.

On the other hand, he felt a certain acid burn in his gut as he recalled the other message Heaven Canceler had passed on when the doctor had told him to immediately return to Academy City. About a certain someone eagerly awaiting his return with dark intentions related to a certain wager they'd both made during the Daihasei festival. Mikoto Misaka. Now there was a situation and a half, and no mistake about it! It was difficult to know what to think about her. On one hand, he didn't really appreciate all her attempts to instigate a fight... he had more than enough conflict in his life to begin with after all. Of course, his attempts at passive resistance to her desires did not have the effect he desired... the more he ran away, the more she chased him, and she didn't seem like she was even capable of forgetting her desire to fight him, no matter how pointless it was. All the moreso because he knew it would never be a serious fight on either of their parts. He had NO desire to hurt her whatsoever, and as he'd witnessed multiple times, she was actually very careful in how she moderated her own force when fighting. Even at her lowest ebb, she held herself back from frying him to a crisp when she easily could have. No fight between them would ever have a victor unless they went all out... and neither of them had any interest in that.

She was a legitimately good girl, and he was proud to be her friend. However, her intentions towards him had lately started growing decidedly more than just friendly, even if she herself might not want to admit it, in the wake of his intervention against Accelerator that had saved her life and those of nearly 10,000 of her clone sisters. Most people tended to assume that Touma was completely oblivious to all the girls around him, and he was fine with letting them make that assumption. He couldn't remember how he'd been while growing up, but he was privately convinced that he never would have survived childhood if he had been both Cursed AND totally oblivious to the feelings of people around him. In fact, because he was Cursed, he had to be that much more attentive to the people around him, because God knew, sooner or later something would happen to put him in their ill graces through bad luck. So no, he wasn't stupid and he wasn't clueless to how a lot of girls, usually one's he'd saved or helped out of tough spots, found him attractive because of those actions, and because of his outlook on life.

But while all the attention was certainly flattering... Touma was a perfectly normal heterosexual in his tastes, thank you very much... he just wasn't sure how he ought to handle it. After all, he was CURSED! People that tended to hang around him for long often had bad things happen to them, including severe injury and the risk of death! And that even with him doing his best to protect them. And that wasn't even accounting for the people that targeted him because of the Imagine Breaker, that was just the random bad shit that happened around him! And he had plenty of people gunning for him now, including pretty much the whole Roman Catholic church, one of the most powerful organizations in the whole world! He'd doubtless stepped on more than a few important toes in Academy City too, especially after destroying the Level 6 Shift project, since the creation of a level 6 was kinda the whole idea of Academy City in the first place, and he'd stopped it butt cold on the verge of success!

He didn't know if Misaka had caught it, but the Academy City board of directors was definitely in on the whole thing, and that meant they were also aware of her attempts to shut it down, and presumably, her intention to fight Accelerator to try and end the project, by any means necessary. Even if it meant her death. And the board of directors did NOTHING to stop her from intervening. Which meant they were probably ok with her dying, if that's what it took to get a level 6 Accelerator. They were willing to throw away the 3rd ranked Level 5, probably the most famous Esper in all Academy City, like trash, if it meant succeeding in their projects. These were not people who's bad side you wanted to be on, and his whole life was a series of incidents where he provoked people like that, because it was the right thing to do! Anyone who got close to him would be a target for the people who were after him. Index was a special case in that regard... half the world was already after her anyway, so being near him was a net gain to her security.

But at the same time, he didn't want to just brush her off or give her a cold shoulder. She didn't deserve to have her heart crushed just because it was probably a death sentence to enter a serious relationship with him. And it wasn't like he didn't find her attractive... kinda the opposite really, given how often he saw blue and white striped panties on a small butt over long legs in his most private of dreams. Yes, those belonged to Imouto, but they were IDENTICAL clones. And it wasn't Imouto he had internal monologues about. Nor did he make bets with Imouto that he obviously couldn't win, just to make her happy. Like his school would ever beat Tokiwadai in the Daihasei festival. One event... maybe. Overall? Not in a million years. That bet was a sham excuse to go out on a kinda sorta date, and they both knew it, though they both pretended otherwise, if for different reasons. But there was no other choice. If he ever made any indication that he "liked" her, she'd be on the target list before the day was out! And he would never do that to someone, especially someone he cared about.

So it was safer, if much more frustrating, to just pretend he didn't understand why she was always acting so flustered and bothered and possessive around him, while stealing the occasional fun times when he was sure no one would suspect his real reasons for doing so. A stalling action, but it was the best he could come up with, while waiting for some other solution to present itself. He had a lot of experience dealing with frustration after all. And so he would show up for the Penalty Game, and pretend to be put out, and drag his feet a bit, and act totally clueless, and have a grand old time watching one of the most powerful girl's he knew act like a lovestruck teenager who wouldn't admit to herself she was lovestruck for a little while, instead of a mighty Level 5 Esper like she was normally obliged to be by society. Something that was good for her soul and his.

Of course, before all that could happen, he had a couple other minefields to negotiate. Most pressingly was getting the girl sitting in the window seat next to him, still dozing, back home without being assaulted by Magicians or having his entire savings account depleted by her voracious hunger. And preferably without being severely bitten on various portions of his anatomy due to a run of bad luck involving catching Index, or other random girls, in a compromising position somehow. Which could almost be a good thing, even he could admit... if it ever happened to a girl that wasn't in his class, or his teacher, or he wasn't responsible for protecting against the evils of the world! Touma liked naked girls just as much as the next guy, but it was wrong to take advantage of someone he had sworn to protect, especially if they were generally incapable of protecting themselves.

It was going to be difficult. Index had not proved to be overfond of air travel, due to the cramped conditions and distinct lack of a full service meal plan... hours and hours and hours of international travel with nothing to do, nowhere to go and very little to eat. A bored, hungry Index was a scary Index, and though she was certainly cute right now, dozing with her head propped on the flip down meal tray, her nun's hood slipped down on the ground between her feet somewhere so her silver hair could spill everywhere, he had the distinct impression she would wake up like a bear from hibernation, hungry, grouchy and evil tempered. Since that was usually how she woke up, even after having a banquet the night before. Breakfast would quickly placate her of course, at least for an hour or two, but he had no food on hand. And while the airport had plenty of places to get food, including some that were actually within his budget for a change, they were limited in time, as there were only a few free shuttles from the airport to Academy City each day. And the cost of the pay shuttles didn't even bear thinking about.

"Soooo... huuuunnnnggrrryyyy..." A sepulchral voice announced next to him. "Feed me... feeeeeddddd meeeeee..."

"We're still taxiing to the terminal, Index. Just another few minutes and then we can stop somewhere." Touma told her, as reasonably and soothingly as he could.

"But I'm hungry NOW! TOUMA!" Index complained, pushing herself upright and wiping a thread of drool off her chin, before searching for her habit hood. "Do you have any idea how long it's been since I ate anything?"

 _About three hours less than it's been since I ate anything, since I gave you all of my portion of the in flight meal._ Touma commented dryly, within the safety of his own head. Not that he bore Index any particular ill will for that. He hadn't really been feeling very hungry, with all the drugs the hospital had put in him, and putting a smile on her face was always a worthwhile sacrifice. Besides, if he was the sort to bear a grudge over having his food stolen, he'd have tossed Index out on the street a week after meeting her. "I know, I know, but there's nothing we can do about it right now. We just need a little patience." He reminded her.

"Hmmph." Index crossed her arms over her chest and turned away from him, pouting. Of course it didn't last long, her sulking rarely did, as she stared out through the window at the lights of the airport, fascinated. Every minute of every day was a new experience for her, and she treasured them all, after living most of her life with her memories being erased on a regular schedule. "Don't feel bad." She said suddenly, still facing the window, her expression clouded in the reflection so he couldn't quite make it out. "About the vacation being ruined, I mean. I had a great time, even if it was only for a day. Thanks for taking me with you, Touma." She went on, showing the usual degree of perception, despite her childish demeanor most of the time. It made Touma wonder sometimes, how much of it was all an act meant to soothe his worries. Just like he acted like he hadn't lost his memories of her, and everything, prior to the John's Pen encounter. The masks we all wear for the sake of the people around us...

"Well its not like I could have left you behind." He replied, covering his mouth with one hand, as if yawning, to hide a small smile. "You'd have eaten the refrigerator and all the pots and pans by now..."

"Grrr... TOUMA!"

"Calm down, calm down, it was just a joke. Don't bite me!"

"You'd better get me a big meal as soon as possible." Index demanded. "Or I'll make you regret teasing me!"

"Sure thing, don't worry. We just have to make sure to eat fast, or we'll miss our shuttle back to the City." Touma reminded her. "And then we'd be stuck without the TV or any home cooked meals for another whole night!" He added as incentive for cooperation. Just like dealing with young children, Index often responded well to bribery. So did the Imouto's, though they were less obvious about it. Maybe it was because they were all children, in a certain manner of speaking, as Index only had memories of the last few months or so, and the Imouto's had only been alive for a few months. Perhaps that was one reason he was so fiercely protective of them, it really was like taking care of a toddler sometimes. Unfortunately, the toddlers were also past puberty and that added a whole slew of additional problems in dealing with them.

He managed to survive through docking at the terminal, and since their luggage was being shipped directly to the city and delivered to their door, de-planing was simple and quick. For someone claiming to be starving, Index continued to display an incredible amount of energy, bouncing and skipping along in front of him, practically pulling him along behind her as she searched for a suitable place to eat. She was being surprisingly picky for a starving girl, for that matter. His wounds ached with a dull throb, the painkillers starting to wear off somewhat, but since Index was clearly having fun, Touma was happy to stroll along and let her play her little games. He even probably had enough money to afford to splurge on dinner, since he had budgeted for a week long trip, and so had six days of per diem expenses still in his wallet. Maybe they would stop at one of the American chain fast food places in the airport... that could be fun. Academy City had Mcdonalds, but there were plenty of other places he wouldn't mind trying, like Chipotle or Quizno's.

Index suddenly stopped, almost in mid-skip, and he nearly ran her over... stopping just short, shuddering with the close call. No doubt he would have fallen right on top of her, and by sheer ill luck his hands would have found her rump or chest, and he'd have had to endure being kicked and punched and bitten and called a pervert in the middle of the airport. Because that was how his luck went, and in truth he'd be "lucky" if that was all that happened. A clothing malfunction wasn't out of the cards... he could just see the brutal beating he'd endure from various people if it occured that he tore Index's clothes off by accident in the middle of the airport. Stiyl and Kanzaki would MURDER him. Consumed with relief, it took Touma a moment to realize Index had stopped to look at a group of people de-planing from a gateway they had been walking past, the flight display said it had come from Athens, Greece. He scanned the arriving passengers but nothing immediately leapt out at him, aside from a group of three, looking like a father, his older son, and a teenage daughter, and only then because of how richly they were dressed, which seemed a little strange for people having taken a commercial flight.

The daughter looked to be about Touma's own age, maybe a year older or a year younger, about 5 feet, 4 inches tall, with skin that was almost alabaster pale and smooth, flawless but almost artifical seeming somehow, like it was achieved via surgery or something. She had flaming red hair, long and straight, almost as long as Index's, cascading down her sides and back, with a rose made of silver studded with garnets or maybe even rubies used as a hairpin. She wore a school uniform that reminded Touma a bit of Misaka's, except the jacket was ebon black, the skirt crimson red and she had a crimson tie over her white shirt, instead of a bow. White slouch socks and black leather loafers covered her almost dainty seeming feet. She was slender, almost looking starved, but not in an unpretty way, with eyes that were as dark as the ocean at night, and almost as deep. She stood by her father's side, looking unbearably haughty, yet somehow vulnerable at the same time, as if she was keeping close to his side out of fear or discomfort.

The son was clearly older than his sibling by several years, maybe even into his early twenties, hulking over six feet, maybe even six and a half feet tall, built like a bodybuilder, a serious competition athlete. His skin was ruddy, almost red in spots, like he'd been badly sunburned while trying to get a killer beach tan. His hair too was red, cropped short in a near military buzz, closely hugging the angles of his skull. He wore a business suit ensemble in black and white and crimson, with creases that looked sharp as knives on his legs, and buttons that glimmered with the shine of gold and silver on his cuffs and pockets. Touma was no judge of apparel, but he would eat his own shoe if that suit cost less than a luxury sedan. The young man, who seemed to be as much bodyguard and caretaker as son, had a harshly angled face marred by the occasional pucker of a scar on his cheek, and over his left eye, and was gifted with golden eyes, almost leonine in aspect, which stared hungrily and challengingly at the world around him. He loomed over his father and younger sister like a castle tower, hands held loose but ready at his sides, clearly ready to burst into action on a moment's notice. There seemed to be tattoos of some sort on the son's hands, but Touma couldn't make them out from where he was.

The father looked to be in his mid fifties, maybe a well preserved 60, with the deeply tanned olive complexion of one who spends a good deal of time outdoors in the Mediterranean environment, just at about six feet tall, with a build that showed he'd probably once been as muscular as his son, before the years etched away that raw muscle power. His hair was the blackest Touma had ever seen, dark like the void of space, except for distinguished looking brushes of magnesium flare white along his sideburns and over his ears. He wore an elaborate, even archaic suit in tuxedo cut of black and gold, with a craveat at the neck, lace at the cuffs, and a silky black top hat that made him taller than his son. A golden fob watch chain reached out of his breast pocket and hooked to a gold and diamond button stud on his chest. Rings of gold and silver, crowned with gems and jewels the size of Touma's pinky nail, crowded his fingers, which were clutched around an ebon and ivory walking cane with a handle exquisitely carved into the shape of Jesus Christ suffering on the Cross. His eyes were deeply hooded, as dark as his daughter's, in a noble, almost aquiline face that seemed curiously immobile. His whole posture actually seemed stiff, as if perhaps he had suffered a stroke at some point and lost control of his finer muscles.

The daughter seemed to feel Touma's gaze, her dark eyes turning to meet his, her harshly beautiful face starting a slow, almost sultry smile in his direction, and he could feel his face heating up involuntarily. Damn it, was this girl going to end up throwing herself at him too? Aogami and Tsuchimikadou would never forgive him for "stealing" another incredibly beautiful ojou-sama upon just randomly passing her in the airport! Before he could worry too much about that though, Index grabbed his attention again, reaching out and taking his left hand and giving it a small squeeze, as she stepped back almost to his side. Touma looked down with a frown... that was uncharacteristic for Index, she rarely needed physical reassurance like that, and never in public, since any sort of touching between them was invariably an "assault on her virtue", of course.

"Everything ok?" Touma asked her, concerned, as she seemed to be stuck gazing at the three rich folks.

"What?" Index said, in mild confusion, before shaking her head as if to clear it. "Yeah, everything's fine." She added brightly, releasing his hand and stepping away, distancing herself as if embarrassed. "I'm HUNGRY! FOOD! FOOD NOW! C'mon Touma, stop dawdling!" She insisted, skipping off again, just as eubullient as before, with no hint of her previous discomfort.

Touma looked after her for a moment, and then shrugged and followed. He wondered if he'd ever figure out his freeloading roommate. He quickened his pace as he saw her veering towards a classy, sit down type resteraunt... the sort of place where her appetite would leave him sobbing and his wallet limp and drained before she was satisfied. No time to worry about strange actions now, not when entirely familiar actions were posing such an existential threat to his bank account! "Wait! Index, not there... not there, please not there! Such misfortune!"

xxxx

 **Back at the disembarkation gate**

"You realize who that was of course." The person Touma had thought of as a "daughter" remarked to the person Touma had seen as a "Father", still staring after the white robed nun and her lackadasical looking companion. "Are we sure we want to just let her run off like that? With Sven here, not to mention me and you, we could easily take her now. There's no one in this city that could even slow us down. Probably no one in this country."

"Patience, Duchess." The "Father" replied, his lips not seeming to move even as he spoke, like he was hissing them between clenched teeth. "Action taken without proper preparation is merely folly. What appears to be a windfall can often turn into a trap from which there is no escape, through haste and impatience. You are yet young though, but you will come to understand this in time. Perhaps after your first millenium... such was it for me anyway."

"As you say, my Great Lord." The girl replied, though not without a small pout of sulkiness. "Too bad. That boy with her looked delicious." She proclaimed, almost to herself, chewing her lip, briefly exposing a mouth full of shiny white teeth, two of which were rather sharper and more elongated than usually found within human dentures.

"Curb your hungers a while longer, Duchess Corbowitz. Soon we will be in a place where all desires may be sated to our heart's content. Those of us who still possess hearts anyway." The father replied, his voice droll, even though his features remained immobile. "Come. Our chariot awaits. And I would look upon our new realm of chaos with my own eyes. It is important, you know, to appreciate purity and innocence, order and stability. That makes defiling and destroying it much more meaningful, when you understand exactly what it is you accomplish."

The hulking Sven made no comment, though a keen eyed observer might have seen a flicker in the depths of his eyes, as if a raging inferno had briefly been unbanked within. He kept his head on a swivel, watching for danger with all of his considerable might, a half step behind his Lord and the Duchess, as they continued their bantering and baiting of each other. All properly respectful on the Duchess's part of course. She was a fell and ancient woman, a feared and dreaded plague upon the nights of the world... but even so, she knew better than to antagonize the Lord Izarde, even here, far from the center of his power. After all, though she was a high ranking noble, she was far from the only member of the Court Macabre that was qualified to attend upon Lord Izarde during this most important of operations. In the Hollow Ones, even a Vampire that was born before the artist Michelangelo started his work on St. Peter's Basilica, was ultimately disposable if she did not mind her place.

The Duchess had secured her place at Lord Izarde's side for this operation through adroit political maneuvering, but also because she had a personal stake in visiting the area. A Progeny of hers, one of her favorites, had recently been given the Final Death in the region, under murky circumstances involving some sort of Vampiric bogeyman or legend, and the Duchess never took the loss of her playthings very calmly. Whoever was responsible would be made to pay, most dearly. Sven was far from being included in the Lord Izarde's private councils, but he'd served the Lord for all of his mayfly's 26 years, and he had been the Lord's preferred enforcer for ten of those years, ever since surviving the Ritual of Descension, so he had some small understanding of the Lord's preferred methods. And the Lord Izarde liked a motivated underling, and well understood that sometimes it was best for an underling to have personal reasons for accomplishing his wider plans, to reinforce their appropriate loyalty from fear. Marchosias growled, deep down in the depths of Sven's soul, but even his... other half... was rightly wary of Lord Izarde.

Progress through the airport was swift, a considerable amount of money always smoothing away barriers and cutting red tape. Their luggage was already loaded in the back of the armored limousine that would serve as their transportation to Academy City. Sven drove, the duties of a chauffeur being amongst the skills he had been exhaustively trained in from a young age, in order to become a Blood Knight of the Hollow Order. Sven remained tense and watchful, even though he knew that there was no true threat to them. Not right now anyway. For the moment, they didn't even exist, as far as most of the Light side believed. The Hollow One's greatest triumph, engineered by Lord Izarde himself, had been convincing the Light side, and much of the Dark side too, of Magic that they were nothing but a myth. It was a comforting illusion... the most common type of self inflicted deception. Who really wanted to believe there was a powerful and organized group of Anarchic Dark magicians out there, with the avowed goal of unleashing permanent Hell on Earth on the rest of the planet? Much easier to sleep at night believing that such things were the province of legend and parable, even for the mighty Roman Catholic church.

An escort from the Japanese government, police on motorcycles, formed up around the limo, to guide and protect them from mortal harrassment during the short trip to Academy City. More money, and the legacy of the Hollow One's slow and careful expansion of power across the globe, across the long course of the group's existence. They had infiltrated, tweaked and outlasted some of the greatest Empires the world had ever known, and as mankind grew ever more advanced, unlike the hidebound Light side and squabbling Dark side, the Hollow Ones, under Lord Izarde's guidance, had evolved with the times. Sven enjoyed the blood wet excitement of slaughtering foes with a sword or an axe... but except in the hands of a truly powerful magician, a sword or an axe would always be trumped by modern firearms in terms of combat effectiveness. Accepting the evolution of society and technology also made it much easier for the Hollow Ones to blend into the shadows of society inconspicuously. No robes or cloaks or nun's habit's or plate mail armor for them... they wore business suits, low cut celebrity fashion dresses, and ceramic plated kevlar vests.

Sven knew only the most basic details about their current mission, something so important it was drawing the Lord Izarde himself out of the shadows to accomplish it, but he didn't need to know the plan. Sven was much fonder of following orders from those who were qualified to come up with the plan. He was essentially a slave, he knew that, but he did not mind in the slightest. The Hollow Ones and Lord Izarde gave him everything he needed in life. Power, status, wealth, enjoyment, freedom to act as he saw fit in accomplishing much of his work... not questioning the orders he was given, and absolute loyalty to the Lord Izarde, was a small price to pay for such an existence. The Lord Izarde was even famously tolerant and merciful, despite his immense dark power. Those who failed were always given a chance or two to redeem themselves before they were permanently judged... surplus to requirements. It was certainly better to work for the Lord Izarde than it was almost any other Dark Cabal of note... or even most of the powerful Light Side groups, like the Roman Catholics. The Lord Izarde understood that minions were human... or at least born human... and thus were flawed, and not always to blame for their failures. It was a very progressive attitude from one as old as he.

The enormous wall that encircled the Heart of Science quickly loomed in the distance, its size growing more impressive the closer they came to it, dwarfing everything around it, the highways leading into and out of its gates like tiny ribbons laid out on a table next to its immensity. The Japanese cops peeled away, as Academy City was a sovereign city-state, and their authority ended as soon as you passed into the Gate security checkpoint. Even late at night, traffic was fairly dense, both incoming and outgoing, as Academy City maintained a blossoming economy and there was plenty of demand for raw materials going on, and finished products coming out. Sven smirked to himself as they waited in the VIP check lane, watching several large trailer trucks emblazoned with the logo of Three Kings Shipping and Transport company... three crowns, one gold, one red and one black, on a silver shield... being allowed into the city one at a time after a cursory check at the weigh station. Trade and transportation had ever been the lifeblood of civilization, he who could control a large portion of that, could control a large portion of the world.

The Three Kings company had been around long enough for its first transport vessels to be sail and muscle powered, but its expansion was carefully controlled so as to never be seen as a monopoly, to avoid notice. In particular, they had no prior presence in Academy City, simply because as the Heart of Science, it held little interest for the Hollow Ones throughout much of its existence. Something had happened to change that, but Sven had no idea what it could be. It didn't matter. Lord Izarde knew, and that was enough. Commercial real estate was at premium prices in Academy City, since the city could not expand past its own walls, but Three Kings possessed currency reserves greater than anything but a first world superpower. Money was not an issue, it would be spent like blood, burned like trash, if need be to accomplish the plans of Lord Izarde. Property had been found, buildings bought and refurbished, contracts made, inspectors bribed or blackmailed into cooperation, government officials appeased or quietly removed from contention.

Officers of the Academy City defense and policing force, the so called Anti-skill, approached the limo, wearing their trademark blue jumpsuits and blue kevlar vests, with assault rifles in hand and pistols holstered at their sides. Sven watched them closely, knowing that they had been bought off, but the problem with some people is that they didn't always stay bought, or they might have an attack of conscience at the last moment, and then things could get complicated. The taste of blood and hot ash filled the back of Sven's throat, and the screaming of souls being shredded and stitched together again echoed tinnily in his ears, as Marchosias stirred once more. Conscience. That and so many other weaknesses had been removed from him by the Ritual, and he was glad of it. But there turned out to be no problems. The officers gave the limo a brief inspection, which could not charitably be called more than a "glance", without even asking to see ID, much less log into the city's computerized databanks for retinal, fingerprint and genetic scanning, and then waved them through.

Which was a good thing. Sven could pass such tests without issue, as long as Marchosias wasn't manifested of course, and if his other half was incarnate, they were long past the point of caring about staying hidden anyway. The Duchess Corbowitz could give fingerprints and a retinal scan, but genetics would probably trip a few flags, since she wasn't alive as Science understood the term, despite how she looked. And as for the Lord Izarde... there was no way he could pass even one of those tests. If those officers had even the slightest inkling of what they'd just let into their city, they would have gladly killed themselves locking the whole place down against a full scale Nuclear, Chemical and Biological attack, as only such stringent measures could possibly contain the Lord Izarde, and even then not for long! For the Lord Izarde was the Macabre King, Lord of the Hollow Ones... The Master of Death, The Hand of Entropy, The Walking Pestilience, The Shadow in the Pit, and a dozen other nightmares of the Magical world, at one point in time or another.

He drove on, the black limo like the first rat escaping a ship, hopping into the docks of a new city, its hide crawling with the fleas carrying the Black Death. The city ahead slept peacefully on, with no idea of the catastrophe bearing down inexorably upon them all...

xxxx

 **Academy City, District 7, September 26th, Late Evening**

"Damn my luck..." Touma bemoaned, hefting his wallet in one hand as he trudged along the sidewalk, headed home at long last. Maybe it was just psychosomatic, but he could swear his wallet was abnormally lighter than usual, like the difference between a brick and a feather. He'd been cleaned out, completely sucked dry, every bit of his travel budget poured down the throat and into the bottomless stomach of his roommate. First in the airport, and he'd nearly lost several fingers to chomping jaws pulling her away from the airport food court, in order to sprint headlong across the concourse in time to make the shuttle departure. Then had come the belated realization that he still hadn't actually found a way to get Index any official ID to make her an official resident of Academy City, which while not a problem on the way out, was certainly going to be something of an issue on the way back in. Having her register as an official guest would mean putting a lot of her information on file with the City... and he was really leery of that, knowing the City like he did.

That turned out to be a surprising non-issue, as the port of entry checks had been almost shockingly lax that night. Touma didn't frequently travel in and out of the City, but he'd heard how stringent the immigration was supposed to be for Academy City, and from what he'd seen, the Anti-Skill officers on duty barely even checked to see if some cars were even occupied, much less if they might have something like contraband in the back. It made him suspicious, to be honest, even if he couldn't quite place a finger on why. Maybe because it seemed like a stroke of good luck. And as he well knew, that never happened to him. There would be another shoe to drop, sooner or later, and he was dreading what it would turn out to be. Either that or maybe there was something about being in Academy City itself that aggravated his misfortune, because barely had they gotten back inside the walls than his ill fortune seemed to fall back on him like a ton of bricks!

First the shuttle broke down, requiring that they walk back much further than he'd planned on. And of course Index was a buzzing ball of energy the whole way, especially once she caught sight of a public jumbotron screen and saw the news about the upcoming visit by the American Espers, which was the talk of the whole City it seemed. Coming right on the heels of the Daihasei festival, it looked like things wouldn't be calming down at all, if anything everyone was getting even more fired up with the spirit of international competition! And Touma had the unpleasant feeling that there would be Esper Duels going on, officially or unofficially, between the residents and the visitors. And that with his luck, he'd find a way to get caught in the middle of it eventually. He fervently hoped none of the Americans would be teenage girls. Because if there were, then he knew... simply knew... that he'd end up seeing one naked somehow. At the worst possible time, in the most compromising possible way. And he'd get beaten to shit and back by everyone around without getting any time to explain.

Depressing, perhaps. But it had happened to him before, or situations like that. Multiple times even. Regularly, it seemed at times. But then again, there was no sense fighting it either. Touma didn't think of himself as a fatalist, he was a staunch believer in the ability of people to change their destiny for the better with enough effort after all. But he was also a realist, at least when it came to his luck. On the other hand, if he did stumble into a position where he was getting involved with the American Espers, it would probably be because there was some good reason for it. He had faith in that much. Maybe he was just seeing things, maybe he was just trying to find meaning in all the bad luck, but sometimes it seemed like he didn't just accidentally stumble into trouble. On a day to day basis, sure. But the bigger stuff, involving the Level 5's and Magicians and stuff, that he just so happened to be around when it went down... it had happened a lot more often than any logical probability would indicate. Like someone was manipulating him from the shadows, driving him towards these situations intentionally, for God knew what reason.

He had no proof of course, nor any idea how to acquire any, if there even was any to gather. But the more he saw of Academy City's dark side, the more often he was forced to intervene against Magicians who had no good reason to have been wandering around loose in the City that was the Heart of Science, with absolutely no official intervention or backup... the more Touma started to believe there really was some unseen mastermind working at the heart of the City, slowly putting together some insanely complicated master plan. Perhaps he would ask Tsuchimikadou. Though getting a straight answer out of his friend was like pulling teeth from a grouchy bear... even if he was successful, he might not like what happened because of it. And even if he did figure it all out, he wasn't even sure he would do anything about it, since even if he was being manipulated or guided from the shadows, he was still doing a tremendous amount of good, for the City and for his friends. Still, it would be nice to know what was bad luck and what was someone using him like their own personal troubleshooter.

Then Index had spied an ice cream shop, and there went another handful of thousands of yen satisfying her sweet tooth. He even got a small cone for himself, and wonder of wonders, got to eat it all in peace, without spilling any on himself or the floor or anyone around him. Of course, when it came time to leave, he stood up, and stepped on a splatter of melted cie cream that had fallen on the floor from Index's feast, which made him slip, and tumble forward, smashing into Index and bearing them both to the floor, her on the bottom, and him with his head in her lap, between her legs, inside the hems of her robes. Several waitresses had helped her stomp the crap out of him before he managed to crawl away, protesting all the while that it wasn't his fault, to the usual minimal effect. Seriously, if he wanted to peep at Index, not that he did, but IF he did, he would do it in the privacy of his own home, since she slept on his bed, and often threw off the covers with tossing and turning, and usually slept in one of his shirts and her panties and nothing else.

Again with his so called "good luck" of seeing girls that were for one reason or another off limits to him, in compromising positions. Just more frustration piled upon frustration really. After all, it wasn't like he had much privacy with Index living with him... he couldn't even jerk off with an honest to God Holy Nun sharing his living space! And if he wasn't at home with her, he was at school or getting chased around the city by thugs or Misaka, or various covens of Magicians. Nope, not much chance for stress relief of that nature, and then of course he got constant views of naked and partially dressed girls to tease him with. Whoever God was, he definitely had a sick sense of humor... Touma wished the big guy in the sky would pick on someone else for a change sometimes. Its not like he asked to be born with Imagine Breaker. Or at least he couldn't imagine himself asking for that. Sometimes he wondered if he should just give in and become a pervert like Aogami and Tsuchimikadou. Of course, knowing his luck, as soon as he did that, he'd stop walking in on girls naked and instead get tangled up in guys changing, or some other form of new horror.

Pumped full of sugar, Index grew even more energetic, and one way or another, he'd been too busy chasing and keeping up with her to stop by the hospital to see Heaven Canceler to get his wounds checked up. Obviously he didn't really need to, since he wasn't leaking blood or collapsing in the street, but sick as it was, sometimes the only place Touma could find some peace and quiet and relaxation was at the hospital. And even then, it wasn't assured. And given how many times Heaven Canceler had saved his life, and those of friends, he didn't want the doctor to think he was just blowing him off. But it just wasn't in the cards that night. Which was another problem, because at night, he could have had a chance to slip in to see the doctor without much chance of running into Misaka, since her dorm had a stringent curfew. Going in the daytime vastly increased his odds of running into her, especially if she was using Heaven Canceler as a voice mail system now. It seemed more and more likely that he would not get even a single day of peace and relaxation before his Penalty Game with her.

He managed to hold on long enough for the sugar high to run out, and once Index hit the down slope of that, all the exhaustion of the long day and walking around seemed to finally catch up to her, and now they were finally headed home. Of course, no sooner had the apartment complex come into view, and he'd begun to relax his guard, wicked fate had struck again. Bowed by exhaustion, he'd been walking slumped over, arms almost dragging on the street, when Index turned to ask him a question or make a comment about something, and he'd collided with her. Which in and of itself could sometimes set her off, especially if she was feeling particular childish, but the serious compounding factor here was that he was bent down a bit, and she was rising on her tiptoes, and his lips just barely caught the top of her forehead. Not like a kiss. Nothing like a kiss. More like almost getting a fat lip off her hard head. Still, no way to explain that to her, judging by the flush of crimson on her face and the way her teeth glinted at him as she advanced on him, eyes gleaming like dead stars.

Too weary to even flee, he simply endured it, trudging up the stairs a step at a time, while she clambered on him, chewing and tugging on his body and clothes as he went. _When did I get so used to this I could just keep walking like nothing was happening? Damn my luck..._ Touma groaned internally, focused mostly on making sure he didn't trip and fall, something that wasn't made any easier with his center of balance swinging around with Index's movements.

"GET A DAMN ROOM, YOU PERVERTS!" Someone down on the street screamed at them, causing Touma's shoulder's to tense with dread. Somewhat to his amazement, Index actually left off biting him to stare down at the street for a bit. By the time he reached the next landing and could afford to turn around himself, the street was empty however, so he had no idea who had seen them. Teeth dug into his scalp again for a moment before Index finally relented.

"What did that man mean, Touma? How is punishing you for being perverted, perverted itself?" Index demanded as they continued towards his room. Which was a loaded question itself, but Touma wasn't in the habit of lying to her, at least not about little stuff, and he was tired, so he spoke without much thinking.

"Some people "like" Punishment. Either giving it out, or taking it." He replied briefly. "Its a big industry even, in some places, inflicting pain for pleasure." Choking sounds from his friend alerted him to the fact that he might have been a little too informative there, as he looked down at her face, blushed almost as red as a tomato.

"I... no... that's not... never... NO...!" Index stuttered in dismay. "That's utterly sinful, I would never do something like that! TOUMA! How could you suggest that I would compromise my maidenly virtue by..."

"I didn't suggest anything!" Touma insisted with a deep sigh. He braced for another bite. But apparently Index was still feeling sensitive about that, because she simply turned her back and "hhmphed" to show her displeasure. They managed to make it to his door without any further mishaps, only to find an envelope in his mail slot. It was official stationary from his school, and just looking at it gave Touma a shiver of dread. Nothing official from his school was going to be good for him. What was it this time? More remedial lessons? Official notice that he was being held back a year? Sexual harrasment claims from a teacher or classmate? Punishment for dressing up as a middle school student during the Daihasei festival to protect the students from Orihana's Interception spell?

None of those it turned out. Somewhat to his shock, it turned out to be a letter of congratulations, penned by Komoe-Sensei herself, gushing with happiness at announcing that he, Touma Kamijou, had been randomly selected in a city wide lottery, to serve as a guide to the city for the ACME Espers from American, when they arrived in a few days. He wasn't the only such guide selected, but the otheres mostly seemed to be star students from prestigious schools, including Tokiwadai. He raised his exhausted gaze to the ceiling, wondering what God had against him having some time off to relax? Then he turned his gaze out towards the heart of the city, and wondered if God was maybe not the person he ought to be fed up with. Coincidence? Hah, he wasn't even sure he believed in coincidence when it came to things like this! Looked like his earlier premonition was accurate... he was in for a head on collision with some of America's Espers. If only he understood WHY!


	5. The Watchful Shadow

**Author Note:** Looks like I got that new story fire burning in me here. I'm posting faster than most of my reader's seem able to review, at this current point in time anyway. Which is always a good place to be, for both writer and readers. I would reply to reviews, but I don't have too many to answer, so if you have any questions or concerns, either drop a review, or send me a PM. I appreciate feedback, not just for the knowledge that you have read the story, and the ego stroke that provides, but also because I seriously want to hear your ideas and thoughts for what you think it might be cool to do. Of course I have my own plan, but there's no telling from whence the next bit of cool inspiration will strike. And of course, if I borrow an idea of yours, I will be sure to give you credit within the story for doing so. Not as good as writing your own story perhaps, but a good deal less work required on your part. With this 4th chapter, and any other chapters that appear this week, by this next Sunday, I'd like to see 30-40 reviews. Optomistic perhaps, but why not aim high? Of course, that's not a requirement, and the story will progress and update with or without your reviews. But all the same, is dropping a review really so hard?

Anyway, RPG Fanatic, I am indeed bringing at least one and potentially several Vampires into this. They are mentioned in the canon storyline after all, but barely touched upon and not well defined. Further scenes in later chapters with Duchess Corbowitz will reveal my take on how Vampire's work... which is probably closer to Hellsing Ultimate on the scale of things. Though by her very appearance, I think you may be able to make some predictions about where Duchess Corbowitz may end up turning up at times. And for the record, neither Sven nor Lord Izarde is a Vampire. Sven's power source is probably discernable by inference from his PoV bits (certainly anyone looking up the name Marchosias will get a big hint), and the mystery of what exactly Lord Izarde is, and why Sven and Corbowitz are terrified of him, will of course be revealed by the story eventually.

Drunkenlullabies, I'm glad you like the chapter length. Though to be honest these chapters are only 1/2 the length of what I usually write. Perhaps they will grow to my more usual standard over time, and perhaps not. We shall see as the story develops and my comfort with the setting and characters grows. And as various characters and factions begin to clash and mix, that will expand length as well, from these more or less introductory chapters.

Amion: Not much I can do about the Catholic portrayal I'm afraid, that's heavy duty canon material. One of the major underlying premises of the whole canon universe is the conflict between Magic and Science, and the Catholic Church is portrayed as one of the most powerful of all Magical organizations. I don't see them as evil, at least not the way the Hollow Ones are, they're just on the fanatical/fundamental side. They wish to convert and control, and they're willing to go very far to do so. After all, the Scientists of Academy City, and their Espers, are all heathen abominations anyway, in the eyes of Magic Side, so any means necessary to subjugate them are de facto approved. They wish to do right... as they see right... and aren't afraid to trample heathens if that's what it takes.

xxxx

 **Academy City, District 7, September 26th, Early Morning**

The early morning air, just an hour or so past dawn, was brisk like the billow of air coming from a freshly opened refrigerator, stirred by gentle puffs of the near ubiquitous winds that streamed through the city. Definite proof that autumn continued to progress, and winter would arrive all to soon. Well, what these southerners called winter anyway... the man making his way stealithly up the fire escape of one dormitory building hailed from a far harsher clime, where during winter sometimes the sun itself would not be visible for days. That was REAL cold, this briskness was more like summer weather to him. He was dressed appropriately for the season, in long pants and a fleece jacket, a fleece muffler around his neck, with a wool watch cap on his head that could be pulled down into a baclava if the need arose, tight fitting gloves on his hands, and sturdy walking boots on his feet. All in nondescript colors, patterns and brands specifically chosen to blend into the background of the city and fade from the memory of any casual observers. A battered canvas satchel was slung over one shoulder, like the sort of thing a down on their luck journalist or photographer might carry to hold the tools of their trade.

The man slipped onto the roof and crouched for a moment at the top of the fire escape, his head cocked as he listened and probed with his ears, eyes and that instinctual sixth sense for danger a soldier acquires after going into battle a few times. Birds chirped along the rooftop, the faint hum of electric cars and buses beginning to stream onto the city streets filled the distance, and the soft vibrations and distant clatter of household appliances from the dorm rooms beneath his feet announced a few early risers. But no threats, no hidden watchers that he could discern, no signs that Anti-Skill had the placed staked out and were waiting for him in a dragnet. He moved on, heading towars his OP, the first observation post of what had threatened to become a daily routine, until he deliberately broke the order of visiting his observation points every few days, just in case anyone was trying to track or follow him. Basic fieldcraft when behind enemy lines... never be predicatable. A good survival strategy when behind friendly lines too, for that matter, especially in the current political climate.

His footfalls made no sound, and barely any vibration, as he headed across the roof towards the OP, a stretch of roof edge like any other as far as the untrained eye could discern. His stealth was the product of thousands of hours of harsh, unforgiving training... and assisted by the customized bootsoles that acted to dampen noise and vibration yet further, similar to some of the noise canceling materials used in military submarines. Regardless of the state of the wider national economy, his employers never skimped on providing the absolute top end equipment for operatives like him. And well they should, for men like him were the point of the spear, the absolute first line of defense for their great nation, tasked with finding and often eliminating the various threats to national security and prestige that plagued this world, and in particular, this City.

He reached the OP and stopped, waiting and looking and listening and feeling once more, but eventually decided that he was safe. Or as safe as any operative could be while within enemy territory, conducting highly deniable and extremely illegal operations against foreign nationals within a foreign nation. He knelt, reaching under the roof-side lip of the short concrete wall that rimmed the building's roof, finding the long bundle of oiled cloth, right where he'd concealed it from the last time he was here. None of the tell-tales he'd left in the area indicated any tampering, so he quickly set the bundle by his side, and checked his wrist-chrono, an expensive model made for serious outdoorsmen, and military units. At the moment he only needed the time, and saw that he was just a second or two early. An expression that could have been a smile, were it played at one tenth speed, crossed his face beneath the muffler and then disappeared once more. Being ahead of schedule was always good, for both performance evaluation and to throw off any enemy that might be trying to keep track of him.

The man relaxed his mind even as he stayed alert, "listening" as he had been exhaustively trained to do, not with his ears, but with something deeper within him. Contact came, right on schedule, a fluttery feeling, somewhat uncomfortable, like a moth trapped inside his head and trying to get out, his brain chemistry being modified by a distant force. The fluttering stopped, and he heard a sound, like a slight intake of breath, female and almost erotic, like a woman stifling herself at the point of orgasm. There was no time to waste, the connection could not be maintained long, and he had several other check ins to make during the day. High Command would not be pleased if he failed to check in at the agreed times, even if that was because Soft Whisper was too worn out for the day to maintain the psychic link.

 _Belyy Voron v polozhenii na tochke nablyudeniya._ He reported tersely in the mother tongue. It was thought to be impossible for anyone to eavesdrop on Soft Whisper's telepathic link, but there was no sense in taking chances, especially while in this particular City. If some Esper was monitoring his thoughts somehow, they would need to be bilingual at the very least in order to have chance of "hearing" his report. And though the propoganda ministers back home might not like to admit it, Russian was not a common choice for multi-lingual students these days. A symptom of Russia's diminishing international prestige, with the "loss" of the Cold War, and the rise of Academy City and of course the United States of America. But in this particular case, it served to reduce his stress, and for that he was grateful.

 _Ponyal. Vashi zakazy tol'ko nablyudat'._ Soft Whisper replied similarly, her thoughts somehow managing to sound like her voice, perhaps through some manipulation of memory.

 _Nablyudaya tol'ko._ He replied cooly, stifling any hint of impatience or other emotional response to the order. It was expected, but all the same, he itched for doing more than simply watching and waiting. He had trained for so much more! The fluttery moth sensation came again, and then the connection faded. He check his chrono again. Barely five seconds had passed. Fast, direct and theoretically uncrackable and undetectable communications with any agent in the field, from hundreds or even thousands of miles away... he was reminded yet again why Soft Whisper was so valued by the Internal Bureau of EKG, and the Russian Government as a whole. Her true capabilities were of course extremely top secret, but she was certainly one of the most powerful Espers in all of Russia, easily a Level 4 as Academy City rated the Espers.

Russia had pursued the Esper program almost as long as the United States and Academy City had. Alas, as was usual for many of Russia's secret projects, they suffered from the... inefficiencies... of the Soviet Union's paranoia and mania for Party loyalty over intellectual achievement or technological advancement. There was a great deal of pressure from the political command structure, and very little support given to those actually doing the work, and almost no tolerance for failure, meaning that many of Russia's few experts on Espers quietly disappeared over the years, leaving them short on the braintrust needed to truly compete in the unacknowledged but very real Esper Race, in its way even more important to national power and prestige than the Space Race. Things were changing, now, belatedly, but the Russian Esper Development Progam still had decades of catching up to do, and they could trumpet few successes to the world. As yet, as far as the operative knew, no Russian nationals had yet reached the holy grail of Esper development success, the Level 5. Though he privately had his suspicions about Codename: Great Bear, and whether or not his friend Anatoly was really displaying his true power in tests or not.

As for him, the man known to his superiors as Codename: White Raven, and to his very, very few friends as Leonid, he possessed absolutely no Esper power or potential whatsoever. None at all. He had tested multiple times for the program, but no matter how well trained his mind and body were, he simply had no talent for Psychic power, and no amount of drugs or hypnosis or even more drastic and risky procedures would change that. His Personal Reality would always be the Reality of the World. While this made him a failure to the Program, it also made him an ideal front lines operative for infiltrating placing like Academy City, since his lack of powers made him uninteresting to the City Board of Directors and their minions. They dismissed the capabilities of Level 0's and normal people, lost in their admiration of what Level 4's and Level 5's could accomplish. It was the height of hubris and arrogance, in Leonid's opinion. One should never underestimate the power of a single well trained and highly motivated soldier, Esper or not.

EKG, or Esper Kontrmery Gruppa, the Esper Countermeasures Group, was a secret subsection of the KGB, assigned to "monitor the pulse of power, national and foreign, and interrupt it where necessary", as the histronic propoganda minister's liked to say. In plainer terms, they were meant to use Espers, and Anti-Esper technologies, to maintain stability within Russia, prop up the current regime, and act to enhance Russia's international power and prestige by spying upon and if possible, sabotaging the Esper programs of other rival nations. It was divided into two Bureaus, Internal and External. Internal Bureau was responsible for policing Russia itself, and for discovering and developing national Espers, and for general EKG recruitment and training. Codename: Soft Whisper, dear Dominika, was one of the flagship assets of the Internal Bureau, and the majority of Espers were to be found within their ranks.

The External Bureau, of which Leonid was a senior operative, and his friend Anatoly, Codename: Great Bear was the pride and Joy, was responsible for projecting the power of EKG across the globe, and serving as Russia's first line of defense against any Esper assisted military attack. Though relatively few members of External were Espers, all were extensively trained in Anti-Esper combat and assassination techniques, using the many, many failures and drop outs from the Internal Bureau's development program as live target practice and technique enhancement subjects. Nothing beat live combat against the very type of foe you were meant to counter. Yes it was sad, that so many failed to reach the high standards of the Internal Bureau, often through no particular fault of their own, and instead of being returned to their lives and family, they were consigned to oblivion in messy combat against overwhelming odds, but Leonid did not set policy. And those who questioned policy too vociferously all to often found themselves on the wrong end of the next training mission.

Of all external assignments, Academy City was the most dangerous and also the most important, as their Esper program far exceeded all others in the world combined. Only senior and proven agents like Leonid and Anatoly were assigned there, as part of the KGB annex to the Russian Embassy in the City. Anatoly was there mostly as distraction, his high power level rating making it hard for him to move within the city without attracting a lot of attention. And while attention was focused on Great Bear the White Raven was free to fly through the city and see what there was to see. And maybe, one of these days, he would also be allowed to eliminate those who he had discerned to be the primary threats to the power of Russian, the individuals by which the elimination of could do the most damage to Academy City and its Esper Program.

Leonid turned to the bundle of oil cloth by his side, flicking it open and revealing the gleaming metal parts concealed within. Bringing advanced firearms into Academy City was almost impossible, its border security was simply too advanced, and even diplomatic missions could not justify bringing in the kind of weapons a secret operative like Leonid might require for his work. Handguns and assault rifles, sure. Sniper rifles, chemical explosives, radio detonators... not so much. However, Leonid had undergone extensive training in behind enemy lines operations, and that including how to procure or even manufacture his own weapons. Perhaps not to the exactly quality that a dedicated factory or gunsmith could, but more than sufficient for a single engagement at the medium ranges that most urban combat maxed out at. And there plenty of abandoned or mostly derelict structures, including industrial facilities, within Academy City, where an enterprising operative could set up a covert weapon manufacturing facility. The rifle he was rapidly assembling was one of his earlier works, but it was a solid piece of work nonethe less.

It would fire a standard 7.62mm rifle catridge and was accurate up to around 300 meters, with the attached scope. Bolt action, and single round capacity only, but one shot was all he should need in this situation. More than sufficient for shooting from the roof of one building, into a room on the building across the street. The rifle was fully assembled in less than thirty seconds, and loaded another second after that. He draped the oilcloth over the barrel and the wall to either side, to break up the outline of the weapon, and hide it from easy detection from the air, making sure to also not let the barrel extend over the edge of the rooftop, so that no one looking up could notice it by accident. Checking the angle of the sun, to make sure it wold not strike a telltale glint off the scope lens, Leonid bent to the scope, snuggling the rifle into his shoulder and resting his finger alongside the trigger guard. Observation only, no action allowed.

The target was already awake, despite having arrived late the prior evening, unexpectedly returning from what should have been a week long foreign vacation. Leonid had no details on the subject's sudden return, but knew it would be tracked down sooner or later. He adjusted the scope with subtle touches of his fingertips, zooming in on what he could see of the target's living/sleeping room, the only view he had from this angle. The target's house guest was still asleep on the target's bed, but the target himself was obviously awake and active, judging by the lights on in the room. The identity of the houseguest, the green eyed, silver haired girl who dressed as a nun, was unknown to both Leonid and high command. No records of her could be found anywhere in the world, so far. The precise nature of her relationship to the target was also unknown... she slept in his bed, and frequently spent all day in his room, but did not seem to be a lover. The target never seemed to sleep in the same bed as his guest, despite multiple witnessed occasions where he had observed her in minimal or zero clothing.

This propensity for sleeping separately was something of a headache for Leonid. He could easily see the target's bed from this vantage, sending a bullet into the target's head would be simple... if the target was ever in that bed! Instead he had to wait for either breakfast or after school, when the target would occasionally do homework or eat on a low table in the living room, usually accompanied by his houseguest, and a small calico cat. Leonid had no idea why this particular young man was of such interest to High Command... as far as he could tell, the boy was perfectly normal, if somewhat clumsy, and if he had any Esper power, it certainly was not evident to Leonid. Of course there were other factors at play that did suggest the target was not quite as simple and innocent as he seemed... for instance, one of the best "known" spies of Academy City owned the dorm room right next to the target, and seemed to have regular contact with the target, both in and out of school. It seemed likely to Leonid that the spy, Motoharu Tsuchimikado, was some sort of contact point or control for the target, though for what reason he did not yet know, as he had yet to see the target do anythign particularly suspicious. But then again, he'd only been staking him out for a couple weeks now, and not around the clock... he had other targets and missions as well.

Leonid watched the target wake his houseguest, with the expedient method of tripping and falling into bed with the scantily clad girl. It bemused Leonid at times. Could the boy really be that clumsy and prone to accidents? Or was it all some sort of elaborate act or ploy... but if it was, why? He questioned his prior conclusion that the target and his houseguest were purely platonic... from the way the scantily clad girl crawled over the target, biting and grabbing, it sometimes seemed like erotic play, rather than true anger. Especially as they usually made up in a matter of minutes, and went on with their days like nothing had happened. Yet they NEVER slept together, and all Leonid's knowledge of body language told him that every time the target intruded upon his houseguest while she was minimally clothed or nude, the target found the experience disconcerting and discomforting, rather than arousing. Perhaps the target was a homosexual... but he had had not seen any evidence of a boyfriend either. Perhaps it was the spy next door? They did seem very friendly at times.

He watched the target share breakfast with his houseguest, and feed a few tidbits to their cat, before setting out for the day. Leonid had trailed the target to school often enough to know his usual routine, and so he could afford to attend to other concerns until the target finished classes. Even should the execution order be given, attempting to eliminate the target at school would be folly. Too many variables, too much chance for extra collateral damage. And while as a member of EKG Leonid was not morally opposed to collateral damage when necessary, he did not deem it necessary for eliminating a simple schoolboy. He quickly broke down his rifle and scope, wrapped them in the oil cloth, and stashed it in his hiding place once more, setting a series of strings and random bits of trash around the location as tell tales, so that if the site was disturbed, he would immediately know upon his next visit. He headed for the fire escape once more. Time to move on to the next target.

xxxx

 **District 7, Family Side Apartments, Noon**

It was a clear sign of High Command's faith in Leonid that he had been assigned to the observation and potential elimination of this particular enemy of the state, the most powerful Esper known to be alive, the Level 5 known only as Accelerator. 1st ranked in Academy City, and thus the world, the androgynous looking young man was rumored to have the strength to defy an entire army single handedly, and was supposedly able to survive the epicenter of a nuclear strike unharmed... though obviously that latter bit had never been tested. An oversight perhaps... in Russia, it WOULD have been tested, after all, why not, if you already had something that powerful? If you could prove your Esper was immune to nuclear attack, you would have just acquired the new ultimate weapon, against which no world power could prevail! It boggled Leonid's mind at times, that such a powerful being was allowed to simply run around loose, living a normal life as a student. Was Academy City really so powerful that they could afford to be so casual with their control and security of their single greatest asset? If that was actually true, then Russia was already no match against the City, and that was an awful thought indeed.

Enormous resources had been devoted to investigation and espionage in order to acquire pertinent details on Accelerator and his capabilities, the type of his Power and how it was used. The findings, though incomplete, made for grim reading for a potential assassin. Accelerator was apparently able to control Vectors, that is to say he could control anything that had a direction to it, anything at all that moved or could be moved, or which moved other things, including otherwise intangible things such as gravity or light! Truly it could be said that this was the ultimate power of science. Guns, knives, grappling, bombs, vehicular attacks, poison gas, irradiation, lasers... all of them useless and even counterproductive against the Vector controller. He could not even be touched unless he allowed it to be so. From any direction, at any time, without apparent effort or even needing to be aware of an incoming attack, he would reflect or smash it aside like it was nothing. If there was an upper limit to the mass which he could affect, it was not listed in the information Leonid possessed. By any definition, Accelerator was a monster.

But Leonid the White Raven was a monster-slayer, and though daunted by his target's capabilities, as any sane being would be, he was not discouraged. The first and most important rule of all Anti-Esper combat was to remember that ultimately, all Esper's were human beings, no matter how powerful, and that they thus possessed human weaknesses. It was merely a matter of finding the appropriate weakness and then exploiting it. Personally, Leonid favored poison for this particular problem. Something subtle, built up slowly over time through ingestion in meals and drinks. Accelerator still had to eat and drink after all. Or maybe some sort of fast acting tranquilizer, perhaps introduced into the water supply of his bathing facility. Though his reflection field would continue to operate while unconscious, it would not be used proactively, so other methods of indirect killing could be applied... such as smothering or drowning, preventing him from getting air and thus causing brain death. It was possible, though unlikely, that psychological pressures could be brought to bear, depriving the target of sanity or the will to live, and thus removing him from play in that manner.

Collateral damage would likely be unavoidable, even in the best case scenario. Formerly, the target had lived a solitary life, but recent events, which were still poorly understood by the EKG due to an astounding degree of misinformation being put out by Academy City, had changed the target's habits. There was a rumor going around that Accelerator had been beaten in a straight up fight by a level 0. Leonid did not believe it. Though he himself was a Level 0 by Academy City standards, and was confident with the right plan he could kill Accelerator, it was ridiculous to think that a head on confrontation with the master of Vectors was anything but out and out suicide! And pointless suicide at that. Accelerator could not be harmed by violent force of any type, even a backpack nuclear bomb would be worthless against him. Further rumors said that Accelerator had later been injured in some sort of street encounter... Leonid was tempted to dismiss that as well, but had seen the evidence for himself. Accelerator now walked with a cane, and was forced to live with a member of Anti-Skill, as well as a scientist, and some random young girl Leonid could not figure out, presumably to help him with daily life.

Clearly something incredible had happened, and Accelerator had been badly hurt by it. How hurt, and how his injuries affected his ability to use his powers, no one could say. For obvious reasons, Academy City was doing eveything possible to keep such knowledge secret, as it would be an enormous loss of prestige and power if their top Esper was discovered to now be crippled and useless! For his part, Leonid planned to continue with the assumption that Accelerator's power was unaffected in any way, as that was by far the safest assumption. If anythin, now that Accelerator no longer lived alone, he was an even more difficult target for Leonid, regardless of Accelerator's physical condition or ability to use his power. Poison was the most likely weapon to succeed, but every person responded to poison differently, and especially so with the young girl child there... dosages that would not show up in the adult's or Accelerator until the terminal dose had been reached would rapidly cause the young girl to become ill, and might tip them off to the attack.

The security of the building was also uncommonly strong. Leonid had taken advantage of some of the KGB's HumInt assets in the City to secure a disguise as a City Maintenance Officer during prior stakeouts. Academy City used robots for most of its waste disposal and public cleanliness, but inspecting apartment buildings for compliance with building codes and public safety rules, was still a job they needed humans to perform. And was the ideal method for scouting out a building without drawing suspicion. HumInt, which was short for Human Intelligence, or the corruption and subversion of foreign nationals through bribery, blackmail or occasionally ideology, was the KGB's specialty for many years, and they had extensive networks of agents throughout most foreign nations, including Academy City. Given how technologically advanced Academy City was, SigInt, or Signal Intelligence, which relied on electronic means of eavesdropping and intelligence gathering, was almost impossible to employ against the City or its residents. Of course EKG had a whole section of talented hackers devoted to constantly trying to break into Academy City's system, but they had enjoyed no notable success as yet.

Many of the building apartments, including the target's place of residence, had explosion resistant and bulletproof glass in the windows and sliding doors. The water and power supplies for the apartments were heavily secured behind multiple layers of fingerprint and even retinal scanner locked doors, and the doors of the apartments themselves likewise required a keycard, fingerprints, and bio-sign recognition in order to open. Not to mention the Anti-Skill officer who owned the apartment the target was staying in. Aiho Yomikawa, a Lieutenant in the police and military force of Academy City, and according to Leonid's file on her, one of their most capable officers. She would no doubt be much higher ranked if she was less morally stout and prone to acting on her own to solve problems, even those problems that the Board of Directors did not especially want to be solved. Leonid admired her convictions, even as he did not doubt that one day they would lead to her premature death. Though Academy City maintained a more or less pristine public international image, EKG was more than aware that the city government was every bit as ruthless and amoral as the Soviet Union had ever been.

Kikyou Yoshikawa was the other adult woman living at the residence, a scientist of no particular note who had been involved in some of the shadowy research projects of Academy City. Leonid did not have the exact details, but he knew enough to more or less discount her as an appreciable threat, aside from the complications her mere presence in the residence presented. As for the final resident of the apartment, a young girl who looked to be around 10 or so, Leonid had absolutely no details whatsoever. She was a bubbly and lively little thing, precocious in the extreme, but seemed harmless overall. If possible, he hoped that any attempt to eliminate Accelerator would not harm the young girl, but sadly he knew full well that was not likely, especially given how she seemed to hang off him constantly, like he was an elder sibling. Of course that did present another possible path of attack... clearly Accelerator cared for the girl, at least enough to tolerate her presence and antics, and that was quite a statement from him, according to Leonid's psychological profile of the Esper. In a scenario of psychological assault, the girl could be a key lever on the target's mental balance.

Accelerator was at home currently, as was the young girl, while the two adults were out at work. Perhaps because of his injuries, Accelerator did not go out very much these days, except when obviously cajoled into an excursion by the young girl, and occasionally to escape the pestering of said girl. There was little more to observe, and not much to gain by hanging around. Spontaneous action would only be disaster when dealing with Accelerator, so he would keep for the time being. Leonid turned away, hands in his pockets, trudging along like a man deep in thought, and no particular destination, letting his feet carry him slowly across District seven towards his final two targets. Well, only one of them was a realistic target, but the other was on the way at least. He let the ambience of the city swallow him, just another random pedestrian on the streets, a faceless face amongst millions, even as he kept his senses alert for the merest hint of danger or opportunity.

The city was abuzz with the news of the coming visit by ACME, which had come almost out of the blue, right in the wake of the Daihasei Festival, which in itself was an event of major international hype, the Olympic Games of the Esper world, televised around the world. Clearly the Americans were making a statement of their own and trying to boost their prestige by showcasing their own Esper program, most likely with the goal of publicly trouncing at least some of Academy City's top Espers right here on their home turf. Which would indeed be a powerful statement of ACME's growing strength and success... if they could pull it off. The American's had the second best Esper program in the world, but Leonid did not know if they were so advanced as to actually think they could directly compete with Academy City... well, clearly someone high up in the American Government thought so, or strongly hoped so. He wondered if he would recieve any new orders regarding the Americans... he thought it likely.

After all, not only was it important to prevent the Americans from showing off too much, but it could be a strong blow against their entire program if some of their top Espers had... accidents... while they were away from the security of their top secret development facilities in the American heartlands. Not only that, but as the host nation, Academy City itself would suffer a loss of prestige and power if they could not ensure the physical safety of their guests while under international eyes. Two birds and one stone, and that was definitely the kind of efficiency in action that the EKG favored. Strike down one favored enemy, and harm another in the process. At the same time, he would need to be on guard against any potential covert operations undertaken by the Americans, or their support groups. Anatoly the Great Bear was one of Russia's most famous Espers after all, and he too was here in the city, as a ceremonial part of the Embassy guard. If the Americans could find some way to confront, defeat or even kill Anatoly, that would be a significant and painful loss for Russia. And for Leonid, as Anatoly was one of his few friends.

He continued his strolling, soon passing the most impossible yet simulataneously most important objective in the entire city. The so called Windowless Building, where the General Chairman of Academy City, their mysterious and secretive head of government, had his residence and headquarters. The building lived up to its name, possessing neither windows nor doors, though clearly it had some connections to the outside world, if only through water, waste and power lines. All of which were almost ridiculously well protected by Academy City's most advanced security measures. The building itself was constructed of some new, poorly understood material, but everything Russia knew about it said it was almost indestructible. Despite being in the form of a skyscraper, the Windowless Building was a hardened bunker that made America's NORAD Mountain look like a wooden shack. Even multiple direct hits with megaton class nuclear weapons would probably not even scratch the Building, even as the rest of the city was annihilated.

Thus the General Chairman, who never left the building and communicated only through the Board of Directors, was probably the most well protected man alive. His death was a priority for both Russia and America, but even with the two mightiest nations in the world gunning for him for decades, he had never suffered the slightest harm... that in itself showcased how secure his residence was. Cracking the Windowless Building was the Holy Grail of assassination. He who could figure it out or even pull it off, would be forever remembered as the greatest Assassin to ever live. Leonid tried to think of ways to get inside or compromise the building security, but as ever, came up blank. He just did not have enough information to even begin to make a plan of attack. As such, he set it aside, for those few moments of idle thinking time he had while on an operation, and continued on, slowly working his way towards his third achievable objective.

xxxx

 **District 7, Tokiwadai City Dorm, Evening**

Indirect observation of the third objective was impossible, Leonid had discovered. The area around the target's dormitory was completely covered with survelliance cameras, and regularly patrolled by security robots, and occasional sweeps by Anti-Skil units. Clearly the rich and powerful families who had their daughters attending school at Tokiwadai were sparing no expense nor pressure in ensuring the safety of their precious offspring. The dormitory itself was strictly gender segregated, no males of any sort, even city officials or Anti-Skill officers, were allowed inside, similar to how the School Garden around the Tokiwadai campus itself was also segregated, preventing Leonid from even getting close to it, not that he particularly wished to do so. The supervisor of this dorm, which was the only Tokiwadai building outside of the School Garden, was a fearsome woman who could give a Spetznaz training instructor a run for their money in terms of discipline and personal strength, as far as Leonid had seen. A most formidable woman indeed. Her personal details, even her name, were closely guarded secrets of Tokiwadai, and as yet Leonid did not have that information, making him especially wary of her.

Further complicating matters was the nature of the third target herself. Mikoto Misaka, Ace of Tokiwadai, 3rd ranked Level 5 of Academy City, and the most publicly known Esper in Academy City. Accelerator and Teitoku Kakine were stronger, potentially exponentially stronger, than her, but she was the public face of Academy City's Esper program all the same. Perhaps because she wasn't a sociopath or psychopath, and thus made for a much better marketing symbol. It might also have been as a ploy to gain extra consideration from Misaka's father, Tabigake, who was a most formidable man, for all that he was a pacifist and a non-Esper. Leonid had encountered Tabigake before, as part of a Russian delegation to a former Soviet Bloc country they were hoping to re-absorb, the process of which Tabigake had almost single handedly derailed simply through the force of his personality and his reputation as a troubleshooter for the world. Though he had felt no threat from the man, Leonid definitely felt that it would not be a healthy place to be, if you got on his bad side. And clearly Academy City felt some of that too.

But more germanely to the issue at hand was that Mikoto Misaka was an Electromaster, one of the more common categories of Esper, but she was a Level 5, and that was a big problem. She could see electromagnetic waves, and detect all forms of radio and electronic signals in her vicinity. Any sort of camera, microphone or recording device would stand out like a flare to her, if it was emplaced around her room or used in her proximity. As her roommate had discovered on several occasions, to her resultant suffering. That ruled out most passive forms of intelligence gathering, and her room faced the inner courtyard of the dormitory, so there was no way for him to observe her from her windows, as he had originally planned to set up a laser eavesdropping device to monitor her private conversations, by detecting the vibrations her voice made on the window glass. So she was untouchable both at school and at her home.

That meant that in order to gather information about her, and potentially be in a position to kill her on command, Leonid had to follow her when she went out into the city. Fortunately, Misaka was a very active girl, both physically and socially, and she spent very little time in her dormitory, frequently coming home only seconds before curfew at night. She was a bit difficult to keep up with at times, due to her insistence on taking paths less well traveled, where a tail might be more easily noticed, forcing him to hang well back much of the time. She was also quite fleet of foot, and not afraid to do a bit of running, sometimes seemingly simply for the sheer joy of it. Luckily for Leonid, she usually met up with a group of her friends after school, for shopping and other leisure activities, so that gave him time to catch up. And she was usually distracted enough by the antics of her friends that he could approach within earshot without any reasonable chance of detection.

She was a perfectly normal middle school girl, somewhat surprisingly given her extreme power, she wore her strength and status lightly. Perhaps inspired by the example of her father, being unfailingly kind and generous to those less fortunate or less powerful than herself. She was an admirable young woman, and though a serious threat to his nation's power and prestige, Leonid could not find it in himself to feel any ill will towards her. That wouldn't stop him from fulfilling his orders regarding her should the command be sent, but he would certainly regret the necessity of it afterwards. It would have to be a close range kill, he'd decided. By surprise. Walk up behind her while she was walking with her friends, and two shots into the head and center mass from arm's reach, with the weapon, probably a special model built of non-magnetic polymers, with non-metallic bullets, concealed inside a coat or jacket.

Long distance shooting would give her too much time to react, even with a supersonic round, with her radar-like sense for her surroundings and her manipulation of magnetic fields to deflect most forms of projectile, or move the environment to shield her from what she could not deflect. Similar problems existed for explosives, as even if he used completely non-electronic means of detonation, she could manipulate the environment to shield her from the blast effects and shrapnel. Poison was out, because her food was provided by the school in most cases, and randomly determined by the vagaries of her friends and activities otherwise, no way to set anything up. Perhaps some form of radioactive exposure could be arranged, though that was generally more complicated than entirely worthwhile when a close range ambush with gunfire would work just as well.

The main problem with killing Mikoto Misaka was not the hit itself, it was the getaway afterwards. Leonid was prepared to die for his country if need be, but would really prefer not to, especially since it wasn't certain that his identity and allegiance were completely unknown to Academy City. Killing the Railgun would be worse than meaningless if he was captured and identified, dead or alive, it would be an act of war and a massive loss of prestige and face for the Russian government. Not to mention what Tabigake would do... if anyone could align the squabbling factions of the world to condemn the criminal actions of one nation, it would be him. So he had to be able to get away after doing the deed. And he had to be at arm's reach, or closer, to ensure he killed her with the ambush. Any botched attempt would result in either being eletrocuted into unconsciousness or death, or blasted to smithereens by her titular Railgun attack. His psychological profile of her painted her as a general pacifist, but if pushed by extreme emotion or threat, she possessed the ability to kill, if not without some hesitation, in his estimation.

The only way he could get that close to her in order to make the hit is if she was on the city streets, and only if there were crowds, and thus likely only when she was having fun with her friends. Two of her friends, Kazari Uiharu and Ruiko Saten, could mostly be discounted, as they were noncombatants and did not possess appreciable Esper powers. Ruiko Saten was physically capable of being a threat, or at least a distraction, but he calculated she would be disabled by shock due to the sudden blood and death, at least for the critical few seconds Leonid needed to escape. The last friend, her roommate Shirai Kuroko, was the real sticking point. A powerful level 4 with the rare Teleportation type power, she was an experienced combatant... at least by the standards of a civilian Esper... and both intelligent and extraordinarily mobile, with a solid grounding in defensive martial arts. Not to mention strongly romantically attracted to the primary target, which would flush her with rage and fury in the immediate wake of an assassination, vastly increasing her combat effectiveness before shock and grief eventually overwhelmed her.

Fleeing from someone who could teleport almost a hundred meters in an eyeblink was impossible, and her ability to teleport objects into other objects was deadly... if he didn't take care of her within a second or two after the hit took place, Leonid knew she would disable or kill him. He could always wait for her to simply be away, since she was an auxiliary peace officer, a member of the student group called Judgment that was responsible for public order throughout much of the City. But that was unreliable, he couldn't count on her being away, or not arriving at an inopportune time... he needed a plan to deal with her. And he could not deal with her first, not without putting the Railgun on guard, and that was just as deadly as not dealing with the Teleporter, if not moreso. It somewhat offended his sensibilities as an assassin, but Leonid was forced to conclude that the elimination of Mikoto Misaka was not something he could successfully acomplish... on his own. He would need a support team of some sort, someone to help him deal with or distract Shirai Kuroko in the immediate aftermath of the assassination itself.

Anatoly would be his first choice for a partner of course, but that was right out, for the same reason as Leonid feared capture or death... Anatoly was fairly recognizable, with his idealized physical form and homegrown Russian looks, and much too easily linked to the Russian government. He'd have to either ask for a fellow EKG assassin to be sent, or work something out with the KGB and their HumInt assets. Neither would be too difficult, but Leonid instinctively disliked relying on other people, especially disposable assets, during such critical operations. It added so many new variables and invaribly made things messier than need be. And messy was the antithesis of an assassin's credo. Still, if that was the only way to get the job done, he would do it.

After checking in with Soft Whisper again, and receiving no updates or kill orders, Leonid peeled off following the group of girls that included the target and headed back towards his quarters in the city, in District 3, near the Embassy. His official cover was as a "trade attache", so he had plenty of offical cause for wandering the city, ostensibly checking out businesses and corporations to generate new trade agreements and business opportunities for Russia with. God knew, the country could use it, with the economy in continual decline of late, and the population growing more and more restless with the lack of progress in generating new jobs for the younger generation. Perhaps that was why there was such a focus on EKG and international relations now... unable to fix its internal problems, Russia was looking outward with a belligerent attitude, searching for an enemy or a cause to rally against and prop up support for the government. Was that a good enough reason to countenance the assassination of teenager students, Espers or not? Leonid could not say, but he knew worse things had been ordered by many governments, for much less reason.

It was a long trip across the city to his apartment, made longer by his need to satisfy tradecraft, taking several false routes, and random twists and turns on his way across the city to throw off any potential tails. Of course, a psychometrist or a clairvoyant Esper could follow him from a distance without him ever being aware of it, but he had no notifications from the Embassy to indicate he was under specific survelliance, and he doubted any student would have the patience to follow him for as long as it took to get home, with him seeming so boring, just another random adult amongst hundreds of thousands in the city. His apartment was on the lower end of what was available for the middle class, a two bedroom, combination living room and kitchen, single bath place in a ten story building, two blocks from the Embassy. It had no special protections or security, its safety value coming from its anonymous and nondescript nature. He took off his coat, hat, muffler and boots in the entryway, and proceded into the living room and kitchen in socks, slacks and button shirt, all still bland in appearance.

He removed his hair, which was a medium brown wig, revealing his silvery white, nearly buzzed smooth hair beneath. Pale skin, lightly tanned by exposure to more foreign suns than he could easily remember, seamed with dozens of tiny little scars, and some that were not so tiny, covered his wiry body. Outside of his boots, he proved to be an inch or two under six feet tall, with a medium build that helped him blend into crowds so well. Neither tall nor short, neither fat nor thin, neither visibly chisled nor flabby, with a few alterations in posture and bearing, and clothing style, he could fit in just about anywhere, appear to be just about anyone, as long as he wasn't imitating someone specific. He headed for the bathroom, and used the mirror to remove a pair of brown colored contacts from his eyes, revealing their natural color to be medium, almost watery blue. Not the eyes of a killer, he'd had people tell him. As if there was any single way for a killer to look.

He put in another set of brown contacts, softer and more comfortable for wearing while sleeping, and put on another brown wig, the false hair just barely brushing his collar. He remained in his cover identity even when alone at home, as much as possible. Never could tell who might be watching. And if he had to go to the door in the middle of the night, or had to rapidly flee the apartment in an emergency, he didn't want to do so in his original identity, or waste time trying to put his disguise back together. He returned to the kitchen and began fixing himself a roast beef sandwich, with plenty of mustard and pickles and hot peppers, for dinner. He drank pure mineral water, a full liter of it, to maintain hydration at all times. Opening his button shirt to reveal a plain white T shirt beneath, he poured himself his one indulgence, a single shot of acceptable quality vodka imported from the homeland.

"Vyzhivaniye!" He toasted the city visible through his living room window, his voice soft and respectful as he allowed himself a moment to recall and remember all those, friend and foe, whom that toast could no longer apply to, through his actions or the consequences of them. He drained the shot and headed for the bedroom. He had exercises to do, procedures to go over, plans to fine tune. And he would need to be up very early again to once more conduct his daily survelliance, as he waited patiently for the kill codes that would be sure to come before too much longer...

xxxx

 **Translations:**

 _Belyy Voron v polozhenii na tochke nablyudeniya._ "White Raven in position at observation point."

 _Ponyal. Vashi zakazy tol'ko nablyudat'._ "Understood. Your orders are to observe only."

 _Nablyudaya tol'ko._ "Observing only."

 _Vyzhivaniye!_ "Survival!"


	6. The Martial Visitors

**Author Note:** Definitely a new story frenzy. I'm even waking up early to write, and on the bus to work too. And I normally love me some sleep, but the story damn well won't leave me alone. I credit the fabulous reviews from people like RPGFanatic, Rise to the Setting Sun, Amion, Nobodyreallyimportant, Reaped-you and others. Of course all reviews are welcome, even the simple "I'm interested, keep going please" types, but I greedily love the reviews that tell me WHAT you liked in specific (and of course what you DIDN'T like), WHY you liked or disliked it, and WHAT you hope to see in the future, including guesswork, predicitions, advice on how to fix problems you see and the like. Oh, and if you spot or like any of my little jokes and tongue-in-cheek references. Perhaps even ones I may not have intended to make. I see reviews as a form of conversation between me and my readers, or at least conversational prompts for further conversation in PMs, so it helps if you word your review like you were speaking to me directly, in a coffee shop or after bumping into me on the street, and want to talk about the story, or the series, or writing in general with me.

I don't have everything planned out for the story. I never do, as I have said before, I prefer to let the story organically evolve through its own progress and momentum in some respects. With that said, I do frequently plan out in great detail my perceptions on the more poorly explained parts of canon, especially those parts I intend to use myself. Such as what Aleister Crowley's true goal in creating Academy City is. Or what the limits and benefits of both Magic and Science actually are. Or what Imagine Breaker truly is, and what the hell that Dragon thing it turned into is. And who and what exactly Heaven Canceler is (anyone else find it strange that he only looks about 50 or 60, yet the story is set in like 2010, and according to his history he met Aleister after WW2, presumably all grown up and practicing medicine, at least in the 18-22 year old range? If he was 18 years old back in 1947, that means he was born in 1929. If the current year is 2010, then he's at least 81 years old, and could be over 100 in all likelihood, if he was older when meeting Aleister, or the canon setting is further in the future. And there's no way he acts like he's in his 80's, much less still practicing medicine at that age, if he's a normal human being). Or how Index herself was created, and why does she share so many physical and mental similarities with Aleister Crowley (Green Eyes, pale Skin, long silver hair, amazing intellectual and magical abilities... I can't be the only one who's noticed that...)? If you want to discuss such things with me, and don't mind a little spoiler for the story now and then, and promise not to share such spoilers with the public, feel free to send me a PM any time.

I've responded to several Reviews via PM, so I'll reserve author notes for responding to those who leave signed anonymous reviews. And of course, for those who give me enough of a review to respond to.

RPGFanatic: I'm glad you enjoy chapters like Watchful Shadow. I enjoy them a lot too. World building/Expanding Universe is one of my absolute favorite reasons for writing fanfiction in the first place. Not to denigrate any other stories on the site, but I've always personally preferred a story that gives us new perspective on canon, or goes in a new direction with canon, rather than simply taking place within it with different actions for the characters. Though I do like me some action scenes too, never fear for that. I have action scenes over 60-80k words long in some of my other fics, spread across multiple consecutive chapters... a single action scene or battle that's longer than 80 percent of all story length catagories on the entire site! But before we can have epic action, we need epic set up. So I'm glad you enjoy that setup as much as I do.

I wouldn't say Albert Joule embraces both Science and Magic. Rather, that his Magic works according to vaguely scientific principles. Its pseudoscience, as is used in most science fiction. His "technology" works because he believes it should, and has crafted elaborate technobabble explanations and crackpot theories as to why it should, disregarding entirely and blatantly violating accepted theories of the physical universe. Not because it's actually grounded in any sort of scientific basis. Any actual scientist taking apart Albert's equipment would be tearing their hair out in frustration (certainly I plan to have humorous interactions between him and Misaka based on that principle), trying to figure out how it could possibly do any of the things it does. I guess maybe its a little like how Ork technology in Warhammer 40k works... it technically shouldn't, but because all the Ork's believe it does, it does. Still you're right in some ways, if anyone on the Magic side at least appreciates and could understand Science powers somewhat, it would be Albert.

Do you mean the Miracle of Endymion movie? I intend to have the Space Elevator there anyway, whether the events and characters appear is less certain.

That is actually a VERY interesting idea for an OC, regarding Touma's past. I like that a lot. I'll definitely do that. Not immediately, but I can already see how I will alert this person to Touma's continued existence, and some thoughts on what will motivate them to pursue him in anger and revenge. Be nice to bite him on the ass for real with a detail from his lost past rather than simply playing it mostly for humor.

Anon: I'll try to remember that. Clearly I don't know my ammunition all that well. But that's what fans are for, filling in my gaps in knowledge. EKG might be working with the Russian Orthodox. Who knows. The story will tell, eventually.

Oh, and I'll be trying to use "Onee-Sama" for Kuroko in regards to Misaka from now on, since several reviewers have commented on how jarring they find the Americanized "Sissy" from the english anime dub that I'm familiar with.

xxxx

 **Academy City, September 29th, District 7, School Garden, Morning**

"Ahhh! I'm SO excited I can barely contain it!" Ruiko Saten squealed, all but rolling back and forth on the ground in her glee. They were gathered at one of the outdoor cafes in the School Garden, Misaka having given both Saten and Uiharu more or less permanent access rights to the otherwise sealed off and passage restricted area. At least the Tokiwadai controlled portions of it anyway, since there was a great deal of rivalry between the 5 schools that made up the Garden, and even visitors who were too openly associated with a certain school could find themselves unwelcome in parts of the Garden that catered primarily to girls from the other schools. All the moreso if the people in question were friends of someone in Tokiwadai, the most famous and prestigious of all the schools, and thus the one most resented as well. Of course, no one would do anything so vulgar as to physically attack or chase away someone from a rival school, as everyone in the School Garden was a well bred young lady from a rich or powerful family, but the social infighting and sniping could be as brutal and bloody as a full scale war at times, and just as hurtful, or even worse, to someone who wasn't prepared to defend themselves against that kind of assault. Self confidence was rarely the strongest social attribute of a teenage girl going through puberty and trying to find her proper place in the world, and some of the girls in the Garden were masters at making you feel worthless, ugly and two inches tall while remaining outwardly polite the whole time.

"I'm... really... pumped up... too!" Kazari Uiharu admitted with uncharacteristic fervor, even as she almost compulsively shoveled her towering ice cream and cake and fruit dessert sundae into her mouth between each few words. Uiharu had a massive sweet tooth, but despite often being treated to amazing treats, especially those available in the School Garden, all too often Judgment work or other issues would crop up before she could finish them, or sometimes before she could even taste them! She wasn't going to take any chances on a day like today, with so much pomp and circumstance on the slate... she was scarfing her treat down in a very unladylike manner, and was forcing herself not to care. She was going to need plenty of energy to keep up with the events of the day.

"Haaa..." Shirai Kuroko sighed in exaggerated exasperation. "I'm still not sure why everyone is so excited. Its just another few Espers, and from an inferior and backward program. Yeah, I understand its a big deal on the political level, but for us, its just going to be a lot of standing around, listening to government officials giving boring speeches while we look as polished and confident as possible." She complained, almost slumping forward onto the table. She'd been released from her wheelchair yesterday, and while she was loving being able to walk around wherever she wanted again, she was definitely not pleased with the days to come. Perhaps because as she was a powerful Esper, a student of Tokiwadai, and a member of Judgment, she was facing a lot of overlapping pressures and responsibilities during the interactions with ACME. The higher ups had certainly noticed her overlapping qualities, and were taking full advantage of it to give her many liason duties, even assigning her as one of the official guides to Academy City for the ACME group. And that meant she was going to be stuck with them for several days, with very little free time to spend with her Onee-Sama!

"Don't be like that, Kuroko." Misaka admonished her friend. "This is a big opportunity for Academy City, and for us all! Espers we've never met before, perhaps with powers no one has heard of before... the other Esper programs don't share their research data with Academy City after all. We could learn a lot from each other! And its always better to get along in a friendly fashion with other people and other nations. America may not have the technology we do, but it's still the most powerful nation in the world, disregarding Espers. We don't want to get on their bad side when its easy to stay on their good side."

"You just wanna fight someone new, Onee-Sama." Kuroko accused with a despairing roll of her eyes. "At least wait for the welcome ceremony to be over before you pick a fight..."

"Shut up! I'm not that obsessed with fighting!" Misaka retorted, flushed, her eyes sparking. "I'm just looking for a little competition, is all. Its not like I get a chance to really stretch my powers that much."

"Oh ho..." Saten said, a gleam appearing in her eyes as she smirked. "So the reason you're always chasing that boy around is because you want to athletically "compete" with him, is it? Use him to get all "stretched out" in new ways? My my my, Misaka, how bold..."

"NO! Whatever it is you're saying, NO!" Misaka burst out, almost turning crimson.

"Normally I try to stay out of this..." Uiharu said primly, before smiling broadly as she clasped her hands together winsomely. "But it's SO obvious you like him, Misaka... just admit it!"

"No! I DON'T like him! Not at all! Not one little bit! That idiot? No way! As if!" Misaka protested vociferously. "He's totally annoying, and he never takes me seriously, and he's always getting in my way and doing things for me without even asking if I want his help. And that damn attitude of his... "I don't need any thanks, I wasn't fighting for your sake, I was just doing the right thing because I felt it needed to be done"... like that makes me feel better!" She slammed her palms on the table in frustration, half rising to her feet, electrical arcs crackling around her head in her agitation. "And when I try and do something nice for him in return, what do I get? He tells me that..." Misaka trailed off, coming back to herself and seeing the wide eyes of her friends staring at her for her outburst. "N-n-nevermind what he told me. Its not important. The thing is, I don't like him. Not like that! Nope. Not even a little!"

"That is so adorable." Saten deadpanned, even as Kuroko was holding her face in her hands and groaning, and Uiharu was blushing with her own internal thoughts, perhaps more explicitly wicked than any of the others. "I've never even heard of someone in as much denial as you are, Misaka. Well, I'm not going to meddle in your romantic life... well, I'll try not to anyway... but its clear to the rest of us that you DO feel something for that guy. We all saw you at the Bonfire Folk Dance, don't forget. We SAW how happy you were to dance with him. Don't you dare lie about that at least, to yourself least of all!"

"She's right, Misaka." Uiharu added brightly. "We're your friends. We'll support you no matter what. Even when it comes to finding a boyfriend. I'm envious, to be honest. Guys never notice plain ole me..."

"Urgh..." Kuroko bemoaned in disgusted tones. "While it tears at the very fiber of my heart to admit it, Onee-Sama, and no matter how much I wish otherwise, they aren't wrong. I keep bumping into you randomly hanging around the Troglodyte, and its clear that you're NOT upset to have him around. Much as I wish you would be. I sincerely and dearly HOPE you don't like him... but you ACT like you do." Kuroko paused and narrowed her eyes. "Wait... he "fought for your sake"? When? Where? WHY? What have you been keeping from me, Onee-Sama?"

"Wait, did something nice for him... so he IS Cookie-Boy!" Saten declared, putting together her own revelation from Misaka's rant. "I KNEW IT!"

"Cookie-Boy!?" Kuroko screeched in dismay. "What is she talking about, Onee-Sama? What have you DONE!?" She vanished from her seat and put her hands on Saten's shoulders in a threatening manner. "Have you been keeping secrets about Onee-Sama from me, Saten? You sure like to live dangerously..." She asked with icy politeness and a tooth baring smile that would have scared a hyena.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!" Misaka shouted, her face crimson, practically radiating steam from every pore, even as caged chain lightning crackled around her body. "I don't wanna talk about this anymore!" She hollered, stamping her foot and grounding herself out into the brick street, almost scorching a section of ground black in the process. When she raised her eyes after a few seconds of gathering her composure, she glared at all of her friends almost demonically. "Do. not. talk. about. this. any. more." She stressed, biting out her words for emphasis. "Please." She added, almost as an afterthought, but the sheer emotion in the final word showed how much she meant it.

"She's right." Uiharu immediately switched sides, remembering how proper young ladies ought to act. "It's not right for us to pressure Misaka about this. We should support her, and respect her desire to not make a big deal about things." _While she's around anyway._ Uiharu added, within the safety of her own mind.

"Yeah, yeah..." Saten said breezily. "I know. It's just not healthy to live in a state of denial. I'm just trying to help. Besides, if Misaka doesn't wanna claim him, I might wanna go after him myself. He seems really interesting..."

"...!" Misaka opened her mouth to reply, before visibly forcing herself to swallow her protest. She'd dug more than deep enough a hole already, no sense making things even worse by getting visibly upset about the idea of anyone else going after Touma in a romantic fashion. Not that such a thing bothered her... did it? She wasn't claiming him, and he sure hadn't claimed her... he probably wouldn't even know how to tell a girl he liked her! Still, she couldn't deny that it put an acidic burn in her chest, around her heart, to hear Saten declare a possible interest in Touma. Even teasingly.

"I for one will gladly forget all about it, Onee-Sama." Kuroko announced cheerfully. "The less we all think about the Troglodyte, the better!" She continued, though she looked at Misaka with concern, doing her best to hide it from her roommate all the same. Clearly the situation was even worse than her most horrible nightmares, if this was how Onee-Sama reacted to mild teasing and gentle probing on the issue. How the HELL had the Troglodyte done this to her? She was going to skin him alive the next time she saw him, and get to the bottom of this issue before it seriously started to affect Onee-Sama in a bad way! Cookie-Boy, was it!? It was definitely time to take off the kid gloves and seriously fight for her Onee-Sama's heart! Eager to change the subject, she continued. "So I know what Uihara and I are doing, and Onee-Sama is obviously going to be part of the welcoming delegation from Tokiwadai, but what about you Saten?"

"Me? I'll be in the crowd somewhere, don't worry. Since I don't have any special abilities or fame or anything, I can't really participate in the ceremony, but I'll be there." Saten replied, not a little wistfully. "After all, school is canceled today, and if you're all going to be there, I sure don't wanna be left out."

"I thought that might be the case." Uiharu said with a secretive smile. "So I talked to Konori last night and with a little wrangling and a few favors called in, I think I have a solution." She took an armband out of her pocket and put it on the table. It was a Judgment armband, except it was red in color, rather than the usual green. "This is an official Judgment deputy armband. We're authorized to give them to anyone who volunteers for reserve work during the ACME visit, as long as they pass a background check and have approval from at least 3 full time Judgment officers. And with Konori and me already approving, and I assume Shirai does too, that means I can give it to you if you want it, Saten. It'll let you come with me and help out, as long as you promise to act with all the dignity and respect Judgment expects during an important event. It will only last as long as ACME is here, and it doesn't actually give you any of the real powers of being in Judgment, but it will get you out of the crowds and into the events proper."

"WOW! Thanks Kazari!" Saten gushed, snatching up the armband and staring at it with glittering eyes. "Of course I want to! This is awesome!"

"Yes, yes..." Uiharu said with a slightly nervous laugh. "But if you wear that, you have to do what I, or any other actual member of Judgment, tells you. No questions or backtalk allowed..."

"And if you act out, WE'RE the ones who are going to get in trouble for it." Kuroko stressed with a sigh. Saten was a great girl and one of her closest friends. But she was excitable in the extreme, and, like Onee-Sama, often prone to speaking her mind and acting according to her personal moral compass... even if that wasn't the smartest or most respectful thing to do at the time. "Since I'm one of the official city guides for the ACME Espers, I won't be around to watch over you very much. You'd better not embarrass me or Uiharu..."

"Oh yeah!" Misaka said, glad to rejoin a normal conversation. "I heard about that from the Dorm Supervisor. She actually seemed proud of you, Kuroko. Only one or two guides are allowed from each school, and not even all schools were eligible. Its a big deal!"

"Its a terrible bother." Kuroko replied with a groan. "But for the good of the city, and for the pride of Tokiwadai, I, Shirai Kuroko, will of course do everything that is expected of me. Even if it means playing tour guide to a bunch of American rednecks for a few days."

"You get to go one on one with them, I hear." Saten gushed. "I wonder if any of them will be cute? Military uniforms can make a guy look awful good sometimes..."

"I think they're older than us." Kuroko replied disdainfully. "And none of them could possibly compare to my Onee-Sama anyway, so that at least won't be any problem for me."

"Speaking of the City Guide thing, don't you guys have to be at a special briefing or something real soon?" Uihara wondered.

"OH CRAP!" Kuroko took out her phone in a panic and checked the time. "I've gotta go! I'll see you guys later!" A moment later and she was gone, vanished into thin air, teleporting away to save time.

"You're going to be busy too, aren't you Misaka?" Uiharu asked, sitting back with a sigh of satisfaction, the sundae bowl finally empty. "How many of the Level 5's are going to be there, do you know?"

"Just me for sure." Misaka answered with an exasperated sigh of her own. "If any of the others are coming, I haven't heard anything about it. Shokuhou has somehow managed to avoid being pressured by the school to do anything, and seems to be making herself scarce... again... leaving representing Tokiwadai up to me on my own, as usual. The others all seem to be busy, or can't be found somehow." She adopted an expression of bemusement. "Its weird, how whenever something requiring a Level 5 to do something for Academy City in a public manner comes up, I always seem to be the one tapped to do it." She said, sighing again. _Of course, that's probably because the number 1 is a psycho, and number 2 isn't much better from what the rumors say. Number 4 is a mercenary for hire, Shokuhou hates public appearances and is happy to use her power to avoid them, nobody even knows who number 6 is, and number 7 is... irregular, and probably not the sort of guy you want to involve in a big ceremony of state with the world watching._

"That's too bad." Saten bemoaned. "I was really looking forward to seeing the Level 5's all gathered together. Aside from you, Misaka, they're all a very mysterious and reclusive bunch. I was hoping they'd come out of the shadows for once."

"Believe me, some of them BELONG in the shadows, and you're better off not ever getting even slightly involved with them." Misaka replied with feeling. "Maybe I'm the exception to the rule, but there's something about getting to Level 5 that seems to warp a person's personality and give them weird quirks..."

"Oh, I wouldn't say you were an exception..." Uiharu said with a small smile.

"And what does THAT mean, Kazari?" Misaka retorted with artifical geniality. "Is there some sort of PROBLEM with my personality?"

"Oh, no, no, your personality is just fine. No problem. No problems at all!" Uiharu quickly recanted. _Aside from being a total tsundere, that is. But she has a point. Compared to what I've heard about some of the other Level 5's, she is almost amazingly well adjusted and psychologically normal._

"Makes you wonder then... what's the ACME Level 5 going to be like?" Saten asked, staring up at the sky speculatively. "Guess we'll find out later today... I can't wait!"

"Yeah!" Misaka and Uihara agreed with smiles. And all was right with the world. For another few hours anyway...

xxxx

 **District 23, Experimental Airport, VIP Terminal lounge, Late morning**

"I-i-is... is this some kind of SICK JOKE?!" Kuroko snarled in pained disbelief, as she stared at the spiky haired young man sheepishly making his way into the rendevous spot for the City Guide briefing. "What the HELL are YOU doing here?"

"Uhh..." Touma rubbed his head somewhat bashfully, looking around the room and seeing all the other guides apeared to be from top end schools, in fancy uniforms, all eying his plain and even somewhat disheveled appearance with varying degrees of disdain, shock or confusion. "I'm here to be a City Guide. Like you, I think." He shrugged and sighed with mild relief. At least he wasn't late! He'd run into a Skill-Out gang bullying some kids in a park on his way here, and had ended up getting chased halfway to the airport by them, mostly through back alleys. Which accounted for the state of his clothes, which were thankfully only rumpled and not stained. He was crossing his fingers that nothing else would go wrong on that day. Even as he knew it was useless to hope for that.

"You are NOTHING like me." Kuroko replied in a poisonous tone, her already grim mood turning positively radioactive at this development. All the moreso because of the morning conversation with Onee-Sama. She turned away from Touma with a huff of utmost displeasure, moving across the room to stand away from him, though she also didn't join the other guides in their little clique grouping, wanting no part in gossip or speculation. She might despise the Troglodyte, and it burned her up inside to even consider the possibilty that he might be getting involved with Onee-Sama, platonically or romantically, but she couldn't forget that she did owe him her life. Somewhat. She didn't really remember how he'd done it, she'd been delirious at the time after all that bratty teleporter had put her through, but she definitely remembered him doing it, with Onee-Sama's help of course. And she was determined not to sink to his level, so she would at least grant him the minimal courtesy of not gossiping about him right in front of him.

She eyed him out of the corner of her vision, as he took a seat on one of the couches, slouching back, almost sprawled out without the least concern for dignity, taking deep breaths as if he'd just run the whole way there. She had NO idea what Onee-Sama might see in him. Ok, she could perhaps grant that he wasn't UGLY, and he was obviously physically fit, and presumably not entirely lazy because of that. But he was constantly unkempt, lacked social awareness, had dismal grades in school, was constantly getting into fights, was a ghastly pervert from what she'd seen... and as someone who took pride in being a pervert at times, that was a serious condemnation coming from her... and perhaps even a playboy, given how many different women she'd seen in or around his company at various points. In short he was completely unsuitable as a match for Onee-Sama. Not even in potential consideration territory, just flat out NO! But Onee-Sama seemed hung up on him anyway, and Kuroko couldn't understand why.

And then it hit her, in a shock almost as powerful as one of Onee-Sama's electric bolts of love! It was mind bogglingly obvious even, though stunning all the same... clearly the only possible explanation was that Onee-Sama's preferred type was a Bad-boy! A street punk, rough and tumble, no social class, truant, low fidelity jerk! It would explain some things, after all. Onee-Sama was of course a lady of distinction from a good family, but she often seemed to struggle with her femininity and acted in ways similar to a street punk herself, getting into fights, staying out after curfew with no explanation, being loud and obnoxious... it was all starting to make sense, in a skewed sort of way. Like did call to like after all. And some girls really did seem to like jerks and assholes, perhaps all the moreso when the girls were high status and usually used to being treated like they were made of glass, and enjoyed the chance to be treated like a normal girl, even if that meant being treated like crap! It never appealed to Kuroko... if she had ever liked guys, she sure as hell didn't now that Onee-Sama was around... but it fit the facts of the situation.

Onee-Sama had even said that the Troglodyte had "fought for her"! Maybe that meant there had been some sort of primitive back streets fighting club going on, and Onee-Sama had somehow become the prize of the competition, and the Trog had won the tournament, and now she was infatuated with him because he had "won" her? Onee-Sama was never a damsel in distress in her life, but perhaps she had fantasies about it... Kuroko certainly did, usually involving herself sweeping in to the rescue, and being rewarded most handsomely by Onee-Sama afterwards. And then Onee-Sama had mentioned something about trying to do something nice for the Trog, and then being rejected... which would definitely fit the asshole and jerk bit, but since Onee-Sama actually LIKED being dismissed like that, it only made her fall for him more! That evil bastard! How could he do that to Onee-Sama!? Worse, how could he think of doing that to Onee-Sama BEFORE Kuroko did!? Clearly her strategy to win Onee-Sama's heart would need to undergo some revisions in the wake of this revelation!

Should she go the bad-girl route herself? She would look good in leather and spikes... she'd checked out some outfits like that in the past, just on a whim. And she was willing to break any rules necessary if it meant being with Onee-Sama, heck, she already did that anyway when she had to. But could she really pull it off? It went against everything she'd learned growing up. Doing it for a night or two of fantasy was one thing... living the lifestyle was another. Kuroko wasn't sure she could do that, even for Onee-Sama... it would be living a lie. Besides, the Trog already had that method down to an art, and since he lived it every day, Kuroko felt it was all too likely that Onee-Sama would see that Kuroko was just faking it, which would render the whole thing moot. No, clearly the only thing to do was double down on her current plan, and become the ultimate lady friend, and drag Onee-Sama back up out of the dirty streets into her true heritage as a lady of breeding and class. Luckily, she still had a few advantages over the Trog, chiefly that she was Onee-Sama's roommate and thus had much freer access to her across most of the day. Yes... matters were dire, but not impossible. She wasn't beaten yet, and she wasn't about to give up either!

"Oh my... you have such a conniving look on your face, Shirai. I wonder whatever you could possibly be thinking about?" A cultured, almost snobbish female voice cut through the haze of Kuroko's speculation, followed by the distinctive snap of a paper fan unfolding and being fluttered dramatically.

"Oh, it's you, Kongou." Kuroko sighed in continued exasperation. "I'd forgotten that you were also selected to be a City Guide." _More like tried to block it out. Ugh, my life is now complete. Completely ruined, that is. Kongou AND the Trog are BOTH here? What did I do to deserve this?_

"Naturally I was, yes. Not only am I a perfect representative of Tokiwadai Middle School, but Kongou Airlines owns a majority interest in this airport, which will be the venue for the events later today." Kongou pointed out proudly from behind her fan, her body posture perfectly poised to show a combination of confidence and humility. That was one thing that always got to Kuroko regarding the other girl. Despite her ridiculous proclamations and overbearing attitude, she acted flawlessly like a proper Ojou-Sama ought to... exactly like she wished Onee-Sama would, but so rarely ever did. "Though to be honest, I am somewhat nervous." Kongou went on to admit, wrongfooting Kuroko with the admission.

"I'm sure everything will be fine." Kuroko replied, reminding herself to act like a proper lady. Kongou seriously bugged her, but they were both representing Tokiwadai today, and really, overall, Kongou wasn't that bad. She was light years better than the Trog certainly! "All we have to do is play tour guide for a few days."

"That is what I am worried about. What if they want to go outside the School Garden?" Kongou said with a moue of discomfort. "I like the city just fine, of course... but I am really not that good with everyday life. As you may remember from the Swimsuit Modeling? What if I screw up something simple, and make Tokiwadai look bad?"

"Well, they're in the military aren't they? How normal is their life?" Kuroko pointed out reassuringly. "I think as long as we act polite, and friendly, we should be fine, even if we encounter something we personally don't know how to do. Remember, they're Americans... they probably can't even use chopsticks at all, for instance. Even someone who is inexperienced with everyday life in the City is going to be light years ahead of a foreigner, you have to admit."

"That is a good point. Thank you Shirai. That really helps." Kongou said with a shy smile.

"Oh don't worry about it. We are schoolmates after all." Kuroko assured her with a exaggerated, false cheery smile. _The last thing I need is you coming around to try and pay me back somehow._

"Your attention please!" An older woman called as she walked into the VIP longue. She wore the duty uniform of Anti-Skill, dark blue fatigues and tunic of hard wearing cloth, under a blue kevlar vest, and was a full bodied woman with a long ponytail of dark hair, and a half-weary, half confident look on her face. She had the rank tabs of a Lieutenant, and wore a pistol in a hip holster, and carried a visored dress cap under one arm. She was followed by a second Anti-Skill officer, also a woman, shorter, more timid looking with green hair in a ponytail and large glasses on her face, similarly dressed, though without the Lieutenant's bars on her collar. "I'm Lieutenant Aiho Yomikawa of Anti-Skill. This is Officer Tsuzuri Tessou. We'll be giving your briefing regarding your duties and responsibilities as City Guides. Please gather round."

Kuroko did so, standing with Kongou, and ground her teeth but said nothing when Touma came to stand on her other side, the Trog clearly feeling more comfortable with someone he knew at least slightly, and who hadn't been actively gossiping about him since his arrival. Of COURSE showing politeness to him would backfire on her like this! The other student guides also crowded around, showing that there were about twenty of them all told... more than Kuroko had been expecting. Maybe the escort duties would not be as onerous as she'd first thought, if there were this many guides to take shifts. "I'll get right to the point." Yomikawa said briskly. "None of you need me to tell you how important this event is to the city, the whole world is going to be watching, many of them on live TV. I don't say that to pressure you, but its something we all need to bear in mind regardless. For today, all of us ARE Academy City to those watching from around the world. So act like it. After the pomp and ceremony is over, you can probably relax a little, but until that point, be on your best behavior." She said, shooting a particularly vicious glare at Touma, which warmed Kuroko's heart to no small degree. Clearly someone else here was familiar with and just as disgusted by the Trog's antics as she was. How HE could possibly be selected for this honor, Kuroko could not understand.

"There are 6 ACME Espers in the delegation, plus one level 0 who apparently is assigned as a guard and caretaker for one of the Esper's who has health issues. All of them are active duty members of the United States Military, though quite which branch they belong to is not clear. They apparently use Army ranks and insignia, but have their own uniforms and protocols. The germane part of that is that they should be well behaved and polite at all times. Most of them are older than you, the youngest we know of is 17, the eldest is 21. We know that two of them are Level 3, two are Level 4, one is Level 5, and one is Level 2, plus the Level 0 attendant. Regardless of their Level, we expect you to treat them as an honored guest of the City at all times. As extra incentive, the visiting Espers will be polled on their experiences at the end of their visit... if you receive a positive review from them in this poll, you will earn school credit as if you scored up to 100 percent on a end of Quarter scale final test, depending on how positively they rate you. Seriously negative ratings will result in a failing grade being applied on this test and also being applied to your grade." Yomikawa explained.

"You will be split up into ten teams of 2. You will each be assigned one visiting Esper to be responsible for at the start of each day of their visit, with the 4 extra pairs having that day off, though they may be called in as reserves in case of some events or emergencies. Which Esper is assigned to which team, and which pairs are in reserve, will be determined at the start of each day. Unless you form an unusually strong bond with a single Esper, assume you will be rotated through all the ACME Espers during the duration of their stay. You are being given freedom to choose where to take your assigned Esper, taking into account their wishes, and a few restrictions laid down on visiting certain areas by the Government. For instance, you cannot take an ACME Esper into any part of your school used for the development of Esper powers without prior approval from City officials, nor into any Research facility you yourself would not normally be able to access. Anti-Skill owned buildings are also off limits. Other than that, we want to be as open as possible with our guests, even if it means inviting them into your dorm for a short time. Normal rules about segregated genders are being suspended during this visit... so make sure your rooms are able to be visited by a member of the opposite sex without causing an incident!" Yomikawa continued, shooting a glare at Touma that had Kuroko wondering what sort of pigsty the Trog lived in.

"You will return your assigned guest to their hotel accomodations in District 3 no later than normal Curfew time every night, unless you have direct permission from a ranking city official to do otherwise. You will be granted special dispensation for returning to your dorms after Curfew for the duration of your duties... but don't abuse that privilege, or it WILL be revoked, and appropriate punishments assigned. As much as possible, you should also NOT let your assigned guest be alone while escorting them through the city. Its not that we don't trust our American friends of course, but all the same, we would prefer they not go wandering around on their own, especially near sensitive areas of the city. You don't have to follow them into the bathroom, but you will be responsible for accounting for their whereabouts at all times. You will have the full support of Judgment and Anti-Skill in this, so if you need help, feel free to ask any officer on the street. Now, are there any questions?" Yomikawa asked.

"Are we allowed to show off our abilities to them?" A male student from one of the best high schools in the city asked with a competitive look on his face.

"I personally don't agree with it, but the city officials are fine with that, as long as no one is injured in any "demonstrations"." Yomikawa replied with a grimace of distaste. "They are here to represent their nation and their program, and I would guess that they will seek to test themselves against you, and other Espers they may encounter. All I ask is that if you feel like starting a competition, you inform the nearest Judgment office and Anti-Skill unit so that you can create a cordoned area, so that pedestrians and passerby will not be endangered. And also, remember that even if their Level is lower than yours, these are all trained soldiers of the most powerful military nation in the world. They are almost certainly trained to be deadly hand to hand and weapon wielding combatants. Don't take them lightly or you'll probably regret it."

"What about the Level 5's?" A girl from Nagatenjouki asked, with a mixture of disdain and envy, pointedly not looking towards the Tokiwadai girls. "What are they doing during all this?"

Yomikawa grimaced again. "I don't have full details on the Level 5's whereabouts or plans. The Railgun from Tokiwadai will be at the welcoming ceremony with the city officials. I know for a fact that Accelerator will NOT be coming." She smiled almost secretively at that announcement. "As for the others, they will or won't show up as they decide to, more or less."

"Must be nice, being a Level 5, able to just decide on a whim whether to show up for important state functions..." One of the guides muttered, somewhat resentfully, to another.

"Being a Level 5 isn't all easy, you know." Touma spoke up, a little forcefully. "They put in a lot of time and effort to get where they are. Personally, I wish more of them would show up and take some pride in our city. But I can understand why they might not want to, or might not have the time to."

"Yeah, sure, whatever." The other guide replied with a roll of his eyes. "I'll be sure to write some time in to pity the people at the top of Academy City, enjoying all their wealth and privileges and research contracts. Right after I win the lottery and save a royal princess and she asks to marry me later today."

"That's enough." Yomikawa cut in, holding up a paper grocery bag in one hand. "Whatever we think about the Level 5's and the City, right now we need to focus on presenting a happy and united front to our guests, who will be arriving in a matter of hours. First we'll be splitting you into your teams, via random lottery. There's ten different colors of paper in the bag. Your partner is the person who has the same color as you. There will be NO changing of partners allowed. Now, Mr. Kamijou... why don't you start us off?"

xxxx

 **District 23, Experimental Airport, Tarmac, Just before Noon**

"Damn my luck..."

"SHUT. UP." Kuroko seethed in reply to her partner's bitching, her eyes practically glowing with demonic fury. "Is it really that bad being paired with me?"

Touma looked the shorter, redheaded Tokiwadai girl up and down, taking in her rigid posture, glaring face, and the none-to-subtle peek at her middle thighs beneath her skirt that she gave him when she saw him appraising her. Despite the flash of creamy skin, it was just about the furthest thing from a seductive movement, since all it really served to do was show off the leather bands strapped around her thighs which served as holsters for dozens of tempered steel spikes, her favored weapons for subduing and destroying those who displeased her. Touma had never been on the receiving end of them personally, but he'd seen the aftermath a few times, and it was rarely pretty. As such, there was only one possible answer. "Yes. Yes it is. I feel like I've been shackled to a wild beast. Like my life is in danger of ending at any moment."

"Keep talking like that and it WILL be!" Kuroko promised darkly. She stood at his side beneath a open sided pavilion that had been erected to one side of the runway where the American's would be arriving, supposedly sometime in the next few minutes. Apparently there was a US Navy Carrier Task Force a hundred miles or so off shore, which had served as the transport for the ACME Espers, before peeling off to participate in a wider wargame scenario with Japan and South Korea. Their conversation was quiet, barely more than a whisper, as there were a lot of VIP's and city officials milling around, not to mention the massive crowd of students and teachers outside the chain link fence of the airport. Of course, it was really only a tiny portion of the city's population, barely 50,000 all told, all screened and sorted by the city government to show the best possible side of Academy City. Nothing was being left to chance. So any visible altercation between two of the City Guides at this stage of the game would completely unacceptable.

"What did I do to deserve this...?" Touma groaned to himself. He had no personal issue with the girl he'd been paired with. She was a friend of Misaka's after all, and as far as he was concerned, that meant she had to be an all right sort of person. But it was obvious, even to someone who wasn't forced to pay as much attention to other people as he was, that she DESPISED his very existence. And he could not figure out why. He vaguely recalled something about her thinking he was Misaka's boyfriend, in his first meeting with her, but that was ridiculous, especially back then when his memory loss had still been very fresh. He didn't even know who Misaka WAS then, though apparently he'd reacted to her more or less like he ought to, by instinct. And now, yes, he had a lot of feelings of admiration and respect for Misaka, and she was pretty cute when she let herself be. But he couldn't afford to let himself really fall for her, or he'd put her life in danger. Though he was definitely willing to protect her against any possible threats to her well being. He'd even pointed that out to Kuroko, shortly after they'd been left to "get acquainted" after the partner pairing was done, when she had got into his face most forcefully and asked him what his intentions towards her Onee-Sama were.

Oddly, despite telling Kuroko that he had promised he would always be there to protect Misaka when she needed him, it hadn't done anything to mellow her attitude towards him. If anything it had made her even more spiky and vicious! Perhaps he should have gone with his first instinct, and told her that he wasn't pursuing Misaka like a girlfriend, because he couldn't afford to for Misaka's safety, no matter how he himself might feel. But he'd felt that she might think that was insulting somehow, so he'd opted for a vaguer and theoretically safer reply. Of course, maybe it WAS the safer reply, and the death glare he was receiving now was actually the lesser of two evils that he could have received. Which was a scary thought. Touma had faced off against fanatical magicians and mad alchemists who had regarded him with less bile than this middle school girl was...

"What did I do to deserve this?" Kuroko hissed back, emphasizing the "I". "To think I'm stuck in YOUR company all day, every day, for the next week or so at the least? This is the WORST thing to EVER happen to me! And I had a corkscrew teleported into my shoulder and a bullet fired through my side only a little while ago!"

"Hey look, there's Misaka." Touma pointed out, hoping for a change of subject, seeing a familiar chestnut haired tomboy walk into the pavilion, surrounded by a gaggle of what Touma assumed were important scientists and city officials. Certainly there was no point letting Kuroko dwell on her anger. He didn't know why she was so pissed at him, or if she was just angry at life in general, but he hoped he could find some way to make her feel better. After all, every girl looked better when she was smiling, and today was definitely a day where everyone should look their best! Touma raised his hand in a little wave, not wanting to make a scene, but catching Misaka's eye all the same. She was obviously too busy to come over to him, and too far away to even speak to him, probably a good thing, since the Biribiri he knew would probably want to set a time for a re-match, or hassle him about him not being around for their Penalty Game yet. All she had time for was to raise a hand in greeting in turn, before she turned quickly away, fussing with her uniform skirt to make sure everything was perfectly in place.

A sudden cold sweat breaking out down his spine drew his eyes back to his partner, standing at his side, so stiff it was like she'd been petrified. Slowly, with nearly antediluvian speed, Kuroko's head cranked up to look at him. She was smiling in a cheerful way that still for some reason brought to mind the rictus grimace of a fleshless skull, rotting in some drainage ditch somewhere. His fleshless skull. "You just signed your death warrant." She told him, low but clear, her tone almost bubbly, the false cheer of a schoolgirl politely complimenting a rival.

"What? But... but I... I was just... it was just waving hello!" Touma protested, feeling like he was going to soak his collar through, having almost never felt such a concentrated threatening aura from another person before. Not even Index after he legimitately forgot to buy food one day after leaving her with a empty fridge all day long.

"Of course it was." Kuroko replied, keeping that murderously insincere smile pasted on her face. _It's not what YOU did, dolt. It's how Onee-Sama responded! You might be blind, but I'm certainly not. I've NEVER seen her do something so girlish. Such a cute little wave, and that blush, and then turning away to fidget to try and hide it. What IS this? This cute and demure and shy side, Onee-Sama? Where have you been hiding this? And why are you only showing it when HE is around? Oh, Onee-Sama, you have been corrupted so deeply... but hope remains! Your Kuroko WILL find a way to purify you and make you clean once more! Oh yes, Kuroko will clean every bit of you very, very thoroughly... heh heh heh..._

"You know, you actually look pretty good when you've got a real smile on your face." Touma's voice interrupted her happy daydream, which of course had brought a blissful expression to her face. "It's nice to see. It certainly suits you a lot more than that glare from earlier."

"Shut up." Kuroko retorted, turning away from him, embarrassed by letting the Trog see her in an unguarded moment. "You're the LAST person I want a compliment from."

"We're gonna have to get along sooner or later. Might as well start now." Touma pointed out. "Besides, its the truth. Girls always look better when they're smiling. And you have a nice smile, Shirai."

"DON'T get familiar with me, Troglodyte. I'll tell you when you can talk to me. And it's not now." Kuroko snapped back. _Damn his sincerity! It would be so much easier to hate you if you weren't so freaking open and sincere, Trog! I begin to comprehend how one such as him could slip through Onee-Sama's defenses. Though surely he must simply be putting his best foot forward. There's no way anyone could be like this all the time, especially in the company of someone who hates you. That could be it! Yes, this time with the Trog will be like purgatory... but it's also my chance to reveal the real him, and show Onee-Sama what a dirty and ugly boy she has nearly fallen prey to! My greatest trial could be my greatest opportunity, and surely Onee-Sama will be grateful when I expose the nearness of her close call to her!_

"Whatever you say..." Touma sighed despondently. There was little further time for conversation however, as a general exodus from the pavilion towards the podium and greeting stand began, as someone high up in the city government obviously receieved word that the American's arrival was imminent. The noonday sunlight was blazing, with a few fluffy white clouds in view, though the ever present breezes in the city kept the temperature to a tolerable level. Anticipation built with the sound of crowd noise in the background, those outside the airport able to see the higher ups moving into their final positions, and excitement spreading through the students and other observers. Members of the media pressed forward, both inside and outside the fence line, hefting cameras, microphones, and recording devices of all shapes and sizes. Not only was this the first time ACME had visited Academy City, this was the first time any ACME Espers had been seen by the world media! Everyone was eager to get an exclusive shot to sell to the networks.

Misaka and the most important officials stood on the main podium, which was raised about a couple feet off the tarmac, with steps leading up on both sides. The City Guide pairs stood in front of the podium, almost like a security cordon, with the actual security cordon of Anti-Skill, all ranking officers in their dress uniforms, as well as the highest ranked officers of Judgment, was arrayed in a wider box around the podium, and forming an avenue of honor guards that the American Espers would walk down to reach the podium for the welcome speeches after they landed. Slowly conversation died away, silence descending on the airport as everyone strained eyes and ears for any sign of the approaching Americans. The silence stretched, until the tension in the air felt thick enough to slice with a knife... were the American's late? Where were they? What was going on?

Answers came in a rush, as slate grey aircraft boldly emblazoned with the American flag on the fuselage suddenly burst out of one of the fluffy clouds, which it had been using to visiaully mask its approach. Advanced stealth materials in its construction had hidden it from most radar and other sensors, reducing its apparent size to that of a large bird on most detection screens. It was a tilt-rotor turboprop type aircraft, called an Osprey by the American military, with two oversized propeller engines on its wide wings, which could be changed from horizontal for flight to vertical for take off and landing. A craft favored for its ability to land and take off just about anywhere, while hauling appreciable cargo at a fair turn of speed... often used by covert and special military forces around the globe, including America of course.

But rather than alter the rotor position in order to land, the American plane circled the airport at an altitude of several thousand feet, as if suspicious of the crowd on the ground. It looked like something was happening up there, but few on the ground had sharp enough eyes to see the rear cargo ramp sliding open, and those that could see it, did not initially understand the significance of the action. Not until five humanoid figures suddenly tumbled out the back of the aircraft and plunged headlong down through the sky in freefall anyway! A gasp spread through the crowd, excitement and confusion and surprise all in one. It was only a few more seconds before the small figures in the sky had fallen close enough for the keen of eye to discern an even more shocking detail.

"They're not wearing parachutes!" Someone in the crowd half screamed, caught between wondering whether they should feel panic at incipient tragedy or awe at approaching showmanship.

Regardless of their lack of any apparent means to slow or survive their plummet, the 5 figures, soon visible to everyone on the ground as young adults dressed in dark olive uniforms, moved seamlessly into formation, one leading, the other 4 in echelon formation to either side of the leader, like a squadron of fighter jets making a pass over a sports stadium. And somehow, the closer they grew to the ground and a seemingly messy landing, the slower their approach grew. Clearly some sort of ability was in play, counteracting their headlong plunge, turning it into something more controlled, more graceful. A roaring sound, like a jet engine slowly drawing closer, began to build in the air as the five figures fell the last thousand or so feet towards the ground, their progress continuing to slow in proportion to how loud the jet engine roar grew. The breeze picked up, ruffling skirts and plucking at hats and hairdos, and grew ever stronger, a blustery wind, a gusting gale, a howling tempest of air, as the ACME Espers descended to within a hundred feet of the ground, heading directly towards the podium, ignoring the Anti-Skill and Judgment honor corridor.

Details finally started becoming visible to the people on the ground once the Americans stopped, hovering about 50 feet up, though the whipping air currents that surrounded and now seemingly supported the ACME Espers still obscured the finer details. The figure in the lead, the head of the formation, was clearly a woman, presumably the one responsible for keeping them all aloft, unless they were all Aero hand type Espers, which seemed unlikely. Immediately flanking her to either side were two men, and to the side of them were another man and woman, both looking younger and more slightly built than the soldiers flanking the leader. A literal wall of wind surrounded them, though it barely seemed to touch them, hardly ruffling their short cropped hair and leaving their visored dress uniform caps solidly on their heads, even as the "exhaust" from the Aero Esper's power lashed the podium and everyone on and around it like a hurricane, forcing the girls to hold down their skirts with shouts of dismay, and a few hats and hairpieces went spinning away in the maelstrom.

Touma gritted his teeth, covering his eyes with his left hand as grit was blown up around them, moving instinctively to shelter Shirai from the worst of the wind, to conserve both modesty and her position... the winds very nearly seemed strong enough to pick up and whirl away a person, especially a small and slender one like her. His right hand tingled, the urge to bat or swing at the swirling wind almost overpowering. But he forced himself to endure it, since the American Esper's were still slowly descending and a fall from that distance would cause serious injury or death, if he suddenly negated the Aero Esper's power. Which would simply be bad all around... injuries for the Espers, major political embarrassment for America because of "unreliable Espers" with the whole world watching, and he doubted that showing Imagine Breaker to the whole world would do much for his own quality of life either. He'd do it if he had to, but while the American's were certainly grandstanding and being annoying, it wasn't threatening.

He turned his head to look at the podium, and saw Misaka standing tall by the microphone pulpit, her hair flying in all directions around her head, clothing fluttering and flapping freely... as usual she was wearing shorts under her skirt, so she had less to fear than most of the surrounding girl students from this wind. Subtle cascades of sparks orbited her, a static charged field keeping away grit and small debris, as she locked eyes with the ACME Espers, refusing to allow their grandstanding to discomfort her. Her eyes were set and steely, not angry, not like he'd seen her before, but she definitely wasn't any more amused by this stunt than he was. It seemed the jockeying for prestige was going to start right from the getgo, before even a single ACME Esper even set actual foot on Academy City territory. It was certainly a spectacle, the five soldiers hovering there calm and imperial over everyone's heads, the Academy City delegates ducking and squinting and all aflutter... the news crews would be lapping it up. An undeniable presentation of ACME's power, and by extension, America's.

Thankfully the ACME Esper's ddn't prolong the stunt to awkward levels, but after another few seconds of posing for the cameras, descended to the podium, the winds rapidly dying away as they finally touched down on the ground... still perfectly in formation, and standing at attention. The leader stepped forward, her expression glacially calm, her eyes hard and searching as she extended a hand in greeting to the flustered city officials who were gathered at the pulpit. Before the elderly man could take it, Misaka stepped forward, intercepting the handshake with her own, looking up at the ACME leader with defiance shining in her eyes. Blue sparks jumped from the microphones as they suddenly switched on to maximum gain without anyone touching them, so everything said on the podium could be heard by the whole crowd. "Welcome to Academy City, honored guests from ACME!" Misaka announced, cutting off whatever prepared greeting the American had been about to launch into. "We thank you for that instructive demonstration of your abilities. You do us, and all Espers of Academy City, proud with your determination to catch up to, and perhaps eventually surpass us!" Misaka smiled, like a knife being drawn, emphasising that the ACME Espers were here to "catch up" with Academy City's power.

"I'm Mikoto Misaka of Tokiwadai, the 3rd ranked Level 5 in Academy City. People call me the Railgun." Misaka continued smoothly, raising her free hand to wave at the crowds of Academy City, and of course the news crews, smiling brightly. "I'm sorry my other Level 5 comrades couldn't be here to meet you, but I'm afraid they had important projects to attend to... I'm sure you understand." She went on sweetly, continuing to stress certain worlds, like "couldn't be here", "other level 5's" and "important projects", to reinforce the unspoken message that while the ACME Esper's were important enough to be greeted by a level 5... they weren't important enough to be worth sending more than one, and not even the top ranked one at that.

"Of course." The ACME leader responded, her voice dry and controlled, for all that she was probably seething inside by being upstaged on a world wide platform by a middle schooler. She smiled, and to her credit, it looked natural and not forced in the least, as she waved at the crowds and cameras as well, like all of this was still on the agreed upon script for the event, and not completely ad libbing. "We of ACME look forward to showing everyone in Academy City, even your reclusive Level 5's, how dedicated the United States is to progress and friendship between our two great nations. I'm sure we have many things to teach you... and doubtless a thing or two you might be able to teach us. I am Major Adelaide Findley, commander of this detachment of ACME. I am the 1st ranked Level 5 of ACME, with the designation of Zephyr Queen. Pleased to meet you, Railgun. Thank you for your generous welcome to your fine city." Adelaide did not of course mention that she was also the ONLY level 5 in ACME, just the 1st ranked, superior to the 3rd ranked Railgun, by inference.

Major Findley was tall for a woman, an inch over six feet, with a rangy build that bespoke of considerable physical power beneath her spotless olive green army dress uniform, which was bare of medals or citations, bearing only her nameplate, rank insignia, a US flag insignia on one shoulder, and an ACME patch on her breast pocket. The ACME patch took the form of a coyote skull over crossed missiles, in white on a black background, and ACME written in red in an arc over the top, and "Special Tactical Unit" in silver, much smaller letters beneath. It looked a little bit like a Jolly Roger insigna, from a distance. Clearly someone had fun designing it. Major Findley had dark ebony skin, black hair falling in perfectly straight lines around her shoulders, swept clear of her face, and hard grey eyes. She filled the chest of her uniform more with muscle than bust, but despite her hard edges, she was clearly a young woman in the full prime of her health and power.

"Let me introduce my subordinates." Major Findley said, smoothly removing her hand from Misaka's grip to point out each person as she called them out. "First is Captain's Vincent Lawe and Kurt Radcliffe, who are both Level 4s." She announced, indicating the two men who had flanked her on either side during their arrival. Vincent Lawe was black like Major Findley, but was of slightly lighter skin tone than her nearly shiny ebony, solidly built, with especially developed chest and arms and quite tall, at nearly 6 foot 4 inches, with short buzzed black hair, little more than stubble, and bright, expressive blue eyes. Kurt Radcliffe was also big, 6 foot 3 inches, somewhat thinner of build than Lawe, but clearly still in better shape than 98 percent of all people his age, with slightly pinkish caucasian skin and sandy blond hair, kept an inch or two longer than Lawe's, and alert brown eyes that seemed to be constantly darting around searching for threats or information.

"Lieutenant Melanie Nordstrom and Lieutenant William E. MacTire are both level 3's." Major Findley added, pointing out the final two ACME members currently present. Melanie Nordstrom nearly looked like a pixie of a girl, compared to her comrades, barely 5 foot, 2 inches tall, with tanned and freckled skin, especially on her cheeks and nose, short red hair kept similarly to Major Findley's, and twinkling deep blue eyes, with a chest that was barely there at all beneath her uniform. William E. MacTire looked almost scruffy somehow, his posture not quite as ramrod straight as the others, his flesh a bit more spare, his black hair worn longer and without as much care as the others, and his green eyes seemed perpetually unfocused, his lips moving in tiny motions, as if he was constantly subvocalizing something to himself. He was right around 6 feet tall, though it was impossible to be truly sure because of his bad posture.

"Warrant Officer JD is a level 2, but has... issues... that prevented him from joining us during our grand arrival. He and his caretaker, Sergeant Jonathon Sherman, will be joining us shortly." Major Findley said, indicating where the American Osprey was hovering down to the tarmac, where it was originally supposed to land, at the end of the honor corridor of Judgment and Anti-Skill officers. The rear ramp levered open again, revealing another pair of uniformed figures at the top. One was seated in a wheelchair, the other standing behind him, and began wheeling the Warrant Officer down the ramp and towards the podium once it settled against the ground, moving slowly and carefully. Major Findley quickly turned back to the Academy City officials, who had by then recovered their own poise.

"Once again, as the leader of this ACME detachment, I want to thank you for your hospitality." She said formally. "We are all very much looking forward to our time here. I expect it will be well spent..."


	7. The Ancient Evil

**Author Note:** Not much to say this time. Enjoy. Major action to come sooner than you think.

xxxx

 **Academy City, District 3, September 29th, Evening**

"Are we secure?" Major Findley asked, her voice filled with command presence, the tone and stance and wording and snap in the voice that had been drilled into her every day since before she could even clearly remember. She'd always been the one with the greatest potential, the diamond in the rough, which just needed the least bit of polishing to shine out like a star in the darkness, the first ray of light of a new hope for America. First, and as yet only ray of hope. But even the smallest of candle flickers could eventually grow into a raging bonfire. Or so everyone was hoping. So she was hoping. Because if not, then what was the meaning of it all? All the tests, the trials, the psychological conditioning, the drugs, the sleepless nights, the nightmares, the blood, sweat, tears and death, all those brave men and women fallen by the wayside to bring her and the others this far... she HAD to succeed, for the sake of all of them! Or else what meaning would there be in this harsh and cruel and violent world? The burden of expectations settled around her shoulders like a cloak of lead, a weight not all the Wind in the world could lift even a millimeter.

She squared her shoulders and straightened her spine, refusing to bow under the invisible pressure, even though she was already almost fully at attention, hands clasped behind her back, precisely nestled into the small of her back, her chin jutting out as she stared at her reflection in the glass of the windows, looking out at the city spread out beyond and below. Academy City. If Espers, and the scientists and researchers that enabled and studied them, ever had a Mecca, this place would definitely be it. The first Esper experiments were conducted here, the first proofs of concept that brought about the scientific revolution that had broadened humanity's horizons more than almost any time in recorded history. Even after decades of intensive research throughout the world, they were still only scratching the very surface of the vast iceberg of potential that was the Esper! People like her and her team, and millions more like them, both within this City, and across the world.

But progress always carried a price, in resources, in time, and all too often, in human suffering, and Espers were no exception. The military potential of Esper powers ensured that almost all Esper programs were subsidized or even directly controlled by national militaries, and the push for results and breakthroughs, a tiny scrap of advantage over the programs of rival nations, the next bleeding edge in the new arms race... it was bought with blood, sweat, tears and all too many young bodies. Espers, though they were born normal people, were never going to be allowed normal lives... all of them, without variance, were science projects, living experiments, test subjects that had no human rights, no fundamental right to life and existence in the eyes of those truly in power. All that varied was how nice their cage was, what luxuries they were allowed, what freedoms they were permitted, and whether or not they were aware of their true status as lab rats.

Adelaide, and her team, and the rest of ACME's Espers, were better off than most. They were full members of America's military, and treated just like any other soldier for the most part. It was still a harsh and sometimes bleak, and ovten very restricted lifestyle, but they weren't prisoners, or animals kept in cells. TV, internet, movies, fast food, cell phones, limited and closely observed social interactions outside the program, even the occasional contact with their biological families... truly they had much to be thankful for, given what she knew of how Espers were treated in many other nations. They really weren't that much different than the students of Academy City, in certain respects. ACME's "cage" might be smaller than this vast walled City, but in the end, the Espers of Academy City were just as closely watched and limited in their contact with the outside world as ACME was, they just didn't realize it. Academy City might seem like Heaven to most Espers, but Adelaide was well aware from the top secret mission briefings that the brightest lights cast the darkest shadows... and the shadows in Academy City were some of the darkest in the whole world, portals straight to Hell!

And it was her job, and that of her team, to go poking about in some of those dark places, as well as in those more brightly illuminated. The mission was fraught with danger, and the chances of total success were quite remote, but even partial success would be a major victory for America and ACME. Academy City's power was predicated on two things only... its advanced technology and its advanced Esper Program, resulting in a relative glut of powerful Espers, level 3 and above, and a full seven level 5's! Anything she and her team could do to wear away at either of those advantages, any secrets they could steal and transfer back home, would be big steps towards America once more becoming the sole world Superpower. Which was of course in the best interests of the whole world. American exceptionalism had paved the way for victory in World War 2, and continued to be responsible for the majority of worldwide charity and relief efforts, either in funding or in action. If anyone deserved to lead the world to a bright future, it must be the United States of America. And Adelaide was an important part of that dream. The honor... and the burden... were incalculable.

"We're clear." Lieutenant Nordstrom replied, her voice a little shaky as her eyes blearily re-opened, struggling upright from where she was slouched on one of the couches of the palatial hotel room, just one of a suite that had been allocated to Adelaide and her mission team. Melanie Nordstrom, Level 3 Esper and Lieutenant 1st class in ACME, 17 years old. Her power was called Perspective Shift, a variety of Clairvoyance, which allowed Melanie to move any one or several of her physical senses out of her body into an intangible "out of body" ghost which could freely pass through environmental obstacles to investigate the surrounding area undetectably. As yet Melanie's range was limited to a handful of meters around her, and she when putting a sense out of her body, she lost access to it herself, becoming vulnerable. Especially because her power required intense concentration. Disruption of that concentration could result in her losing access to Shifted senses for several minutes as her brain and body realigned with her AIM field.

Still, it made for an effective means of probing the walls and floors and roof for any hidden listening devices or physical eavesdroppers, and could certainly come in handy if they needed to probe a building's defenses prior to an insertion and could contrive a way to get Melanie near it for an investigation. Melanie also had another talent that allowed her to embed her senses in someone she knew well or had thoroughly studied, allwing her to "ride along" in an almost third person perspective for an extended duration, effectively giving an infiltrated agent or soldier on the field a second pair of senses, which could be invaluable for difficult or stealthy missions. She, like the rest of the mission team, was one of ACME's most promising recruits, and if her power continued to develop, she would have a very bright future indeed, perhaps even moreso than some like Adelaide, whose power was more directly useful for combat, but lacked when it came to intelligence gathering. And gathering intelligence was often valued more than physical victory, since good intelligence could lead to not having to fight at all!

"Wiley?" Major FIndley prompted after several seconds of silence filled the room.

"Gathering data." Lieutenant William. E. MacTire replied tersely, not looking up from the conglomeration of wires and circuit boards and display screens and oddly shaped metal antennae he was hunched over in one corner of the room. He was a level 3 Esper and thus a Lieutenant 1st class by ACME's ranking system, and also 17 years old. He was known informally to his teammates and most anyone who worked with him for long as Wiley Coyote, a play on his name and on his often harebrained and scattershot approach to problem solving, which relied heavily on untested technological equipment, often engineering by Wiley himself. There was no denying that Wiley was brilliant, even without his Esper ability, but his genius was definitely of the flawed variety at times. High concepts, beautiful engineering... generally not very practical or effective in execution, and sometimes extremely dangerous to the operator. His latest invention, the AIM Jammer, which he was currently fiddling with, was a departure from his normal aesthetic, ugly as sin but it seemed to actually work as intended, at least half the time. It was meant to send out artificially generated AIM waves which disrupting the shape of AIM fields projected by living beings.

As yet it had a very short range, barely able to cover the room they were in, and a short operating time of less than an hour. It also wasn't strong enough to affect the power usage of an Esper physically present within the field... but it did wonders for disrupting the AIM field projections used by psychometrists and clairvoyants to observe or listen at long ranges, preventing them from spying on a space warded by the Jammer. It had proved itself in exhaustive tests back home, but this was the first time they would be testing it in the field. Wiley continued to fiddle with it, punching buttons, twisting dials, flipping switches, occasionally banging on the side with the palm of his hand, and muttering to himself under his breath the entire time. It was something Wiley almost always did, reciting technological specifications, data streams, mathematical computations and predictive analysis under his breath, all completely unconsciously. Hell, it was such an ingrained tick that he sometimes did it in his sleep.

It wasn't actually a psychological quirk, at least in the standard sense, but actually a side effect of Wiley's power, which was called Black Box. It was a rare power, unique as far as Adelaide knew, which allowed Wiley a sort of hyper-cognition when it came to understanding technology and other factual data and scientific theory. A few hours of thumbing through chemistry books and Wiley would qualify for a PhD in the subject, and the same for mechanical engineering, quantum theory, chaos mathematics, neurosurgery, you name it. The knowledge would fade after a day or two, faster if he was cramming multiple subjects at once, but it made Wiley an invaluable resource in the field, personality quirks aside, especially for understanding and reverse engineering any technology or data they might acquire.

"Field is active!" He announced triumphantly a moment or two later, brushing his fringe of just barely regulation length black hair out of his eyes. "Just had to find the right settings. Just needed a little kinetic encouragement is all. We're live and secure!"

"Bout time." Captain Radcliffe said with a roll of his eyes. What could you do with Wiley... couldn't live with him, couldn't succeed without him. "We need to debrief and work out our AARs. The Brass are gonna wanna know all about our impressions, and they always want to know what we could have done better." He said with a sign. Kurt Radcliffe, Level 4 and a Captain in ACME, designated second in command of the mission, 18 years old, though he often seemed older. The rest of the mission team grumbled, even Adelaide quirked a frown, but it was procedure, and they had grown up with Procedure as one of the pillars of life. You go into action, even non-combative action, with potential enemy forces, and you had to post an Afted Action Report afterwards, for the Brass to dissect and mull over, to improve performance in similar situations in the future.

Kurt's power was called Stealth Bomber, named after the piece of military hardware that had served as a symbol of American's strength and technological supremacy... until Academy City had surpassed them in the early 1980's. Stealth Bomber allowed Kurt to become invisible, not just to physical sight, but also to sensors which operated in wavelengths beyond the human eyeball, even radar, sonar and more esoteric sensors like olfactory or atmospheric pressure... while Stealth Bomber was active, Kurt was as close to undetectable as it was possible to be. Full stealth mode could only be maintained for a short duration, 60 seconds at his current strength, and required at least as much time out of stealth as in it to recuperate, but Kurt could use reduced versions of the ability to only become undetectable to certain types of sensing, thus prolonging his stealth time for most operational needs. The perfect ability for infiltration or surprise attacks against critical enemy targets, and Kurt was one of the most deadly soldiers in the world, not just within ACME.

"I thought we did pretty good." Captain Lawe said, his voice surprisingly mild considering he was the largest in both size and mass on the mission team, nudging the six foot, three inch tall and two hundred pound Kurt out by an inch of height and nearly fifty pounds of solid muscle mass. Were he not an Esper, Vincent Lawe could easily have become a star American football player, in just about any position he might want to try out for, though in truth he actually detested the sport, as well as Rugby and other full contact games, much preferring European Football or Soccer, as he liked the faster pacing more fluid strategy they required. After all, no Esper got to level 4 like he did by being merely a brute mass of muscle and aggression. Not in America's Military anyway. "We got ahead of their game plan with the Hurricane Drop, and that let us send out a great PR image to the world. Nearly perfect, as far as I can tell."

Vincent Lawe, Level 4 and ACME Captain, also aged 18, wearing his years lighter than Kurt, but still serious and dedicated to the mission at hand. His power was somewhat grandiosely called War Machine. It was a variety of matter control, tuned to ferrous materials and crystalline based metals. Simply put, Vincent could rearrange the molecular structure of iron and steel and other metals with a touch, radically changing the material's form and shape. His most common usage of the power was to create a suit of full body armor, dense but flexible, over a hi-tech exoskeletal bodysuit for enhanced strength, agility and personal defense, though maintaining the full suit was extremely draining on his stamina and he could not last more than an hour per day that way. He could then form blades, spikes, blunt warheads and other weaponry out of the armor, or other materials on hand. He even possessed the control to create firearms, though he could not produce the chemical propellants needed to fire any ammunition, so he had to carry that seperately. Still, in battle he was a walking tank, a one man platoon, capable of fighting singlehandedly against overwhelming odds for short periods of time without resupply or reinforcement. He was also extremely effective against heavy enemy armored units, able to ruin tanks and other machines with a simple punch, by warping their armor and structure into unusable shapes.

"That did go well." Major Findley allowed, turning from the window to face her 4 direct subordinates. "But the Railgun stole the momentum back easily enough. I must admit, she caught me off guard. I allowed myself to see too much into her being a Middle Schooler, and neglected to remember that she is a Level 5, the most powerful of Academy City's second tier. She won them back some ground, and gave them time to recover their poise. In that sense, we failed that part of our objective, since we did not control the momentum of the rest of the welcoming ceremonies."

"I was disappointed." Wiley admitted, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "I was hoping to see Number 1 or Number 2 there." He said wistfully. Though his power usually required him to study technical data, at close interpersonal range his somewhat unfocused eyes, which prevented him from seeing clearly at a distance, did let him pick up on powerful AIM fields, though it wasn't quite accurate to say that he truly "saw" them. Not in any physical sense. He simply "perceieved " them. And as data he could then analyze those perceptions and turn that analysis into expertise. In short, if he could get into arm's reach of an Esper for a few minutes, he could usually figure out how they used their Ability, and their general level of strength.

"Those are deceptive terms." Kurt scolded Wiley. "Academy City likes to brag and boast about having seven level 5's, and puts out that ranking system like they're racking up high scores on some video game, but all our data on them says there's worlds of difference between their actual power levels. Accelerator and Dark Matter are 1st tier, and their power is like nothing else in the whole world, you might even wanted to call them Level 5.5s to be honest. Railgun, Meltdowner, and Mental Out are the 2nd tier, what the world accepts as the definition of Level 5. And the Unknown and the Gemstone could be anywhere on either Tier, or a tier of their own... we just don't know enough about them. But don't rely on Academy City's rank chart to parse them... there's so much we don't know about them and their true strength at this stage."

"What about these City Guides?" Melanie asked. "We expected them to put watchers on us, but I didn't expect them to use Students and Espers for it. Especially because most of them don't seem like they're connected to the City Government, from what I can tell. How are we going to deal with them?"

"Bunch of schoolkids." VIncent snorted derisively. "Should be easy to enough to give them the slip when needed. Or knock them out for a brief nap." He held up a hand to cut Kurt off. "I'm NOT underestimating them, or their Esper Powers. But they ARE schoolkids. Civilians. At worst, petty criminals and bullies. They've never been under fire from an enemy determined to fight to the death. They've never faced a life or death choice. Never lost a comrade on the battlefield." Vincent's voice went especially quiet and sober at that last criterion. "I'm just saying, that there's a gulf of experience and training between them and us, regardless of powers, and that gulf gives us the advantage should we decide that civility needs to become a battlefield casualty itself."

"Orders are to avoid civilian casualties as much as possible." Melanie reminded them doubtfully.

"Are they really civilians?" Wiley countered, hrrming to himself. "Is any Esper truly a civilian, in this world we live in?" He asked, more qietly and introspectively.

"We'll ask for clarification from the Brass, next chance we get." Kurt said with a shrug. "I'm sure our Rules of Engagement will change several times during our stay here. Politicians never can keep their fingers out of the pot after all." He paused and licked his lips nervously. "And if Sanction is called for..."

"Don't even think about that." Adelaide cut him off sharply. "And especially don't talk about it. Not even here. That should NEVER become necessary as long as we all do our jobs."

"Sorry Major, I spoke without thinking."

"That brings up another point though." Vincent said dourly. "Sergeant Tank notwithstanding, are we really gonna let JD go out without an escort? He's kinda vulnerable, what with his "issues" and all?"

"Warrant Officer JD, and Sergeant Sherman, are valued members of this team, with all the rights and privileges of the rest of us, and we will consider them as such." Adelaide said with finality. "Up until we are no longer allowed that luxury, should we fail that terribly." She said, much, much softer. "We will play that by ear. Tomorrow, we'll have Melanie stay here, and Piggyback on JD while he's out touring the city with the Sergeant and their guides. Her report will help us decide whether further unescorted excursions will be allowed, or are too risky."

"I don't agree with that, but you're in charge." Kurt said with a scowl. "I wouldn't let JD out of a cell if the building was burning down. Much less out into town. And what's the Sergeant going to do in an emergency? He's a level 0. He's only here cause his family influence with the Brass let him in. Which is a really bad precedent if you ask me. Money has nothing to do with Esper potential, Sherman's proof of that!"

"He still has an undeniable rapport with JD, that none of the rest of us can claim." Wiley pointed out. "All our psychological studies indicate that Jonathon is the best possible caretaker for JD."

"I won't have him locked up in isolation." Adelaide said firmly. "He gets too much of that back home. It's not JD's fault he's weak. He deserves a chance to get out and see the world a little. It might be one of the only chances he ever has."

"You're too soft." Kurt shook his head in dismay. "It's gonna bite us all on the ass one of these days."

"If you have a problem with my leadership, Captain, feel free to take it up official channels..." Adelaide said icily. "There is more to command than pragmatism, and forgetting that a leader is only as good as her treatment of her weakest soldier is not a mistake I will be making." A gentle breeze that had nothing to do with the air conditioning flowed through the room, stirring Adelaide's hair and wicking the sweat off her brow, before she calmed herself. Kurt could often be an ass, but he was an experienced officer in his own right, and his cold pragmatism was a steadying influence within the mission team. They could not afford conflicts amongst each other, especially so soon. Besides, verbal sniping was beneath her notice. She was Adelaide Findley, age 21, ranked as a Major in ACME, the only Major, the only level 5. The Zephyr Queen, the great American Hope.

Technically termed Aero-Dominion, Adelaide's Ability could control air currents and gaseous particles in the atmosphere around her, discern air temperature, atmospheric pressure, gaseous density, even the gaseous elemental mixture of the atmosphere, all as naturally as she breathed that same atmosphere in. It wasn't quite sight, nor hearing, or touch, or smell, more like an instinctual awareness, another type of sensory experience that she could never adequately explain to someone who lacked it. She was aware of every molecule in the air around her, extending hundreds of meters in an open space, and she could control those same molecules with a simple flicker of thought, the merest desire to do so. Generating winds powerful enough to hurl people like bottlecaps, to deflect bullets, RPGs and even artillery shells, to overturn APCs, to lift her into the sky and hurl her through the heavens faster than anything but a military jet, with agility like a hummingbird! To even allow her to carry others along with her, though at great detriment to her speed and maneuverability.

And those were just the most blunt and obvious applications of her power. Adelaide possessed many more tricks, some of them extremely highly classified and forbidden from being exhibited around witnesses who might possibly survive to report back to others. To control the wind was to control the world around her in a fundamental way that very few ever truly considered to all its logical conclusions. Railgun might be the 3rd ranked Esper in Academy City, but Adelaide was the 3rd ranked Esper in the world, according to ACME's exhaustive investigations. Accelerator and Dark Matter still had her beat, potentially by a significant margin. But she was working on closing that gap every day! Of course, the Russian's disputed her ranking even as they refused to put forth their own Esper to contend for the rank, which was a sign of lacking confidence if she'd ever seen one. Or a massive ploy to generate overconfidence, but Russia usually wasn't subtle like that. And Adelaide was aware, as perhaps only a level 5 could be, how variable the level 5 rank was, how much room there was for circumstance and environment to weigh in on any contest between level 5's, and even be the deciding factor for any such conflict.

"No problems. Just weighing in my opinion." Kurt said with his hands raised in a placating manner. No doubt he was aware... as they were all aware... that should she wish to, Adelaide could kill every last person in the room, and probably in the rest of the hotel, in a matter of seconds. Minutes at most. And there was nothing anyone there could do to stop her. Not that she would, but there was always that knowledge lurking in the back of the mind. Vincent had spoken of a gulf between ACME military Espers and Academy City civilian Espers. Adelaide also felt there was a gulf between level 5's and all other Espers. Not just a gulf of power, but an uncrossable distance even between close friends and comrades, that that power difference engendered. That quarter second hesitation she saw whenever there was an argument, as whoever she was disageeing with reminded themselves of her power, and let that knowledge influence them, even just a little. Sometimes she wondered if her most fervent dream wasn't to reach Level 6, but simply to have a normal argument with someone who wasn't going to be afraid of her. She wondered if the Railgun, or the other level 5's, ever felt like she did?

Perhaps she would have a chance to ask them sometime during this mission...

xxxx

 **District 10, September 29th, Near Midnight**

Sven stood guard outside, where it was safe to do so, near the limo that he had driven there earlier in the evening, the same one that had served as the conveyance from the airport. It was a good car, well tuned, well maintained, and more importantly, well armored and well shielded against prying eyes. The car was a bit conspicuous against District 10's somewhat rundown urban aesthetic, but Sven's looming presence discouraged much in the way of interference from the locals. Even the gangs of Skill-Out members on their nightly roving from their bases in Strange, a sub-district of District 10, generally kept their distance. Not out of any especial respect for Sven, in his well tailored suit, next to the obviously expensive limo... but out of a deeper, more primal and subconscious sensation. A tickling on the back of the neck, the bristling of the short hairs, the sensation of being watched from the shadows, of passing the lair of a hungry, bloodthirsty beast. An aura of threat that humans felt in the hindbrain, and even the dimmest of brutes would generally retreat from.

Which was too bad really, in Sven's opinion. He was bored, and a mixup with some local toughs could be just the thing to get the blood moving again. Then again, it was probably for the best that he remained torpid. When Sven played with people, he tended to play pretty rough, even without Marchosias to egg him on. And unlikely as it was, there was no sense risking any official notice from the City Government at this point in the bigger game. Sven didn't think anyone really cared much about these delinquents, not even whether they lived or died, but it wasn't work the risk to the Lord's plans all the same. The Lord Izarde was forgiving of failure... but not of stupidity or incompetence, and risking discovery just to relieve his boredom was definitely stupid. So Sven stood, and occasionally paced, and remained as alert as he could, as the city slowly grew darker and quieter, sleep gradually settling on a populace still brimming from excitement from the arrival of ACME earlier in the day.

Sven had watched the broadcast, along with the Duchess and the Lord, in the executive suite at the top of the new Three Kings Building in District 15, one of the City's prime commercial zones. It was also the most expensive place in the city to live, land prices at absolute premium, but for Three Kings, as the public face of the Hollow Ones here, money was never an issue. The suite was palatial, the equal of any six star hotel and better than most purpose built homes within the city, but in truth it made Sven a little uncomfortable, used as he was to a more monastic existence in the service of the Lord. The rooms were the primary dwelling place of the Duchess, as the Lord had little need for sleep, and in any case, required much more special accomodations for any place where he wanted to take a spot of relaxation.

He'd liked the look of the American Espers, as Sven was the beneficiary of a great deal of top tier military training himself, and he could recognize and respect professional soldiers when he saw them. They would be worthy adversaries. Of course he did not know if he would ever come into conflict with them in person, as their place in the Lord's grand plans was unknown to him. Still, the good part about most of the Lord's plans was that they generally allowed for a fair degree of chaos, confusion and independent action, so Sven remained hopeful that a chance would come along for him to step out for a little personal fun and games. He had never hunted an Esper before, and he was looking forward to seeing how it was different from hunting a Mage. Shadowy movement on the street drew his attention and his alertness for a moment, before he relaxed into torpid watchfulness again. Just another few Cultists, straggling in to the rendevous after spending the day canvassing the city and their assigned targets.

The Black Hand Society, they were called, one of dozens, even hundreds of mortal Cults that had been seeded and carefully nurtured by the Hollow Ones, to provide a steady source of well trained and fanatically devoted minions and pawns. Cannon fodder really, by any other name. Flesh and blood and souls for the grinders of ambition. Which is not to say that they were unskilled, uneducated or inexperienced. These were not conscripts, to be herded into battle in a screaming mass, more afraid of the spears behind them than the swords in front. No, many of them were trained as well as Sven, or the veterans of multiple battlefields, and many had formal educations in some of the best schools available. They just happened to be devoted, body and soul, to the futherance of the Hollow One's grand dream of Hell on Earth. Insanity did not equate to stupidity after all.

The dark light of fanaticism shone on their faces, visible almost as its own kind of radiance to Sven's enhanced eyesight, one of many gifts Marchosias granted him even when not incarnated. These men, and few women, were giddy with religious fervor, intoxicated on the merest brush of true power in their short and brutal lives. As well they should be, for tonight the Black Hand Society was being granted the greatest honor imaginable, a personal audience with and tasking by the Lord Izarde! Generations of cult activity passed between such opportunities, and though the completion of their mission would no doubt lead to the total eradication of the Black Hand Society, they came willingly, for the honor and reknown they earned by serving as Izarde's chosen instruments would be immortal!

Or so they believed anyway. From his somewhat more privileged position, Sven knew that they would soon be forgotten, their memories discarded like used candy wrappers. They were a tool, a blunt instrument, ammunition within a gun, to be expended and forgotten about with no care at all. A thousand times a thousand Cultists might be sacrificed for a single goal, and no Hollow One would think twice about the cost if they achieved success of whatever ambition they cared for. Insanity did not equal stupidity, but Blind Faith did not provide fertile grounds for self reflection or an accurate understanding of one's true place in the world either. He watched the arriving stragglers and saw not humans, not even minions... he saw corpses, the walking dead, just as much as any re-animated zombie, they simply did not know it yet.

The Cultists entered the building that Sven was watching over, a nondescript 2 story building that had once been some sort of family owned department store, and was now mostly dust and paint chips and bare concrete inside, with black drapes across the windows and plywood over the windows to provide privacy. He watched them disappear through the doorway, like they were being swallowed by a dark mouth, and both smiled and shuddered at the apt comparison. For within that building tonight dwelled Death in one of his purest forms, and no living creature that stepped over that threshold could expect to see the end of the week, even if they survived the coming mission. Even Sven himself did not dare to enter that building, not tonight, and not any day afterwards if he had a choice, not without significantly more protections than he currently possessed with him anyway!

Hours passed, and he continued to stand sentry over a building that stood quiet as a tomb, as Lord Izarde explained his needs to the Cultists and they no doubt promised to burn their very souls to ash if that was what it took to serve their Master. Finally, sometime after 3:00 am, Sven felt a buzzing from his pocket, and took out his smartphone. He did not recognize the number, but he recognized the signal all the same. Only a very people knew his number, and only one would be sending a wordless message on this particular night, at this particular time. The Lord was finished, and it would soon be time to depart. He checked the area again, and saw nothing, just like all night so far. Everything was going according to plan, slow and steady steps towards victory. A few minutes later, the tap of an ivory cane on the sidewalk announced the return of the Lord, moving with shuffling, almost exhausted seeming steps, though his posture remained as rigid and unbending as ever. The Lord did not acknowledge Sven, mind clearly on other matters, and Sven took his place behind the wheel and pulled out of the alley.

Still, even distracted by incomprehensible thoughts, clearly Lord Izarde had noticed something of Sven's emotional state, and the window separating the driver's compartment from the passenger space buzzed down a minute or two into the drive. "I apologize for assigning you such menial tasks, faithful Sven." Izarde said, his voice like desert wind caressing dried bones.

"My life is yours, Lord." Sven averred, keeping his eyes on the road.

"And your death." Izarde acknowledged, a smile in his voice, if never upon his face. "But there will be no need for your life to end anytime soon. We are still taking baby steps here in this city, probing the outer edges of its defenses. It is boring, I know. But necessary. It will all pay off in the end, just you watch."

"I would never doubt you, my Lord."

"You should." Izarde reprimanded lightly, his voice echoing out of the darkened passenger compartment like he was speaking from a hole deeper than the center of the world. "I am many things, faithful Sven, but infallibility has never been amongst my traits. I find a certain amount of doubt in my closer subordinates to be invaluable. I already know how smart and powerful and amazing I am... what I need to hear is how I am being blind and stupid and careless. You simply must take care never to let your healthy doubt shake your confidence in me, and your faith in my orders. As that would be an unhealthy sort of doubt, in both the long and short terms."

"You task me, my Lord?" Sven asked, swallowing thickly with pleasure at the honor of being engaged in conversation with Izarde. Even asked for his opinion on things! He was higher in his Master's councils than he had even suspected! Or perhaps he was lower in them, but more useful all the same. "Can I... can I ask what your plan is?"

"Regarding the Black Hand Society, you may." Izarde said graciously. "As that is the most pertinent of concerns at this time."

"You said that we are taking small steps, to probe the defenses of the City. What is the goal of the Black Hands?" Sven asked first. His military training impelled him to discover the objective before all else, as it was the objective that would decree tactics and appropriate resources.

"I wish to test the efficiency and resolve of Anti-Skill and Judgment, the city's first lines of defense against disorder and chaos." Izarde answered. "I will test their reaction time, success rate, level of training, level of morale, and real time problem solving ability, as well as their ability to multitask and deal with different types of threat simultaneously."

"A terrorist attack then... no multiple attacks..." Sven mused, taking into account the relevant skills of the Black Hands. "Not a bombing, that is too one dimensional. A hostage scenario of some sort, something drawn out, something with tension and room for maneuver on both sides, with the world media watching to ratchet up the pressure. Are we attacking a school, Lord?"

"Good thought process, but too hasty. Baby steps, Sven. Baby steps. There may come a time when we take a school for our own purposes, but we still need to know much more about this City and its defenses before we think about taking major territory. However you are otherwise correct. We need to hit the enemy right in the gut, force them to react with their full force, and hostages on a world stage are the best way to do that. What do you think the best way to endanger a large group of students while maintaining as much control over them as possible, and making it as difficult to approach us as possible would be?"

"Transportation." Sven replied after several seconds thought. Taking the time to think it through, knowing the Lord valued correct answers more than rapid ones. "Not the auto-buses, they are controlled from outside and carry too few. That leaves the Skytrams. If we could stop one... or more than one... on the elevated rails, in between stations, we could have plenty of hostages on hand, nowhere for them to go, and be very difficult for rescue teams to reach. Of course it would make our escape difficult as well, but the Black Hands will not be escaping."

"They are already dead." Izarde said, echoing Sven's thoughts from earlier in the night. "And they know it. Standing with both feet in the grave has such a liberating effect on one's soul, I find. It banishes so many fears and flaws in the heart of a minion. And you are correct, faithful Sven. You have guessed the primary plan exactly. Some sub-cells will also wait within the crowds that will be drawn to the stopped trams, to cause havoc and dismay once Anti-Skill starts to get settled in to the primary threat. There is another little surprise or two I have in the mix as well. We will also launch a token assault upon the City Government, the Windowless Building. It stands no chance of success, but should serve to get plenty of attention. From the City... and those outside it."

"The Black Hand Society..." Sven said slowly, drawing out what he knew of the group. "They are open affiliated with several of our more openly apocalyptic front organizations, aren't they? The ones we know are under scrutiny from various Light Side organizations?"

"You are clever, Sven. Hopefully our enemies will be as clever as you." Izarde answered with another vocal grin, sending a shiver of dread spiderwalking down Sven's spine. "I want the eyes of the world upon this city. ACME's arrival, though no doing of mine, is advantageously timed for this. I want everyone to be paying close attention, including the so called Light Side of Magic. I want them to be curious. To be worried. I want them to come here looking for reassurance, to come investigating, hoping and praying that their nightmares remain only a figment of their imagination. And then we will show them that their nightmares were all too real, and such sweet, gentle fantasies they were too."

"Besides..." Izarde continued, his voice becoming somewhat quieter, almost introspective. "I am testing a personal hypothesis. A hunch. There's something about this City, Sven. The Prime Bastion of Science it may be, but I cannot shake the feeling that there's something mystical about the place as well. It seems so familiar for some reason."

"I do not know what to say, my Lord."

"There is nothing for you to say, Sven. Not about that. Now, what problems do you see with my plan for the Black Hands?"

"How will they get past station security bearing weapons? Academy City's detection technology is the best in the world. I know of no technique that can fool it."

"Fortunately, I do." Izarde answered. "Remember Sven, Academy City is a beacon of Science, but aside from its very uppermost echelons, it has no knowledge of Magic. I have provided the Black Hands with a few trinkets I made that should ease their infiltration. A few bags of holding, a portable hole or two... relatively simple manipulations of space-time and dimensional folding magic. The scanners will see only a bag or packpack, though it may contain enough weaponry to outfit a platoon."

"But will that not alert..." Sven trailed off. "Of course, you WANT people to know that Magic was involved. The bags will be the proof, which will draw in the true enemies."

"Very good, Sven. Very good."

"What about the students we will take hostage? They are by and large not normal people, but Espers. And we have no idea what sort of powers they might have. The Black Hands might face significant trouble simply securing their hostages." Sven pointe dout a potential large problem.

"Shock and awe will cow most of them. This City and its populace have been peaceful for many years, at least as far as most of them are concerned. And the Students, while Espers, are still young humans. They will be prone to panic and confusion and intimidation. Shoot a few of the most threatening and the rest will fall into line. And if not, well, a bloody massacre, while not my main goal, is not unwelcome either. It is my understanding that most Esper powers are not particularly useful for defense against guns, grenades and explosive suicide vests. If that is a false assumption, it will be good to learn about it now, rather than later." Izarde said with a verbal shrug. His body was incapable of such nuanced motions except when at rest in a lair.

"Then given the stated objective, I can see no further weaknesses or problems, my Lord. If all we desire is information, then that makes success all but assured, to greater or lesser degree. I can see no path for this to backfire on us, not if part of our goal is to be found out. All that could possibly vary is how soon we are found out. And there are so many other variables influencing that, it is impossible for me to predict." Sven said with no little admiration for the plan.

"It is a good opening gambit at least." Izarde said modestly. "But the rest of the game remains to be played, and it will be a long and difficult match, against many top tier opponents. Ultimate victory will be within our grasp, but so too will ultimate defeat be possible. I will be relying on you, and Duchess Corbowitz, to ensure that defeat never truly catches up to us."

"I will kill anyone or anything which stands in your way, my Lord. I will soak this city in blood and death and terror if that is what it takes!"

"A good first step, Sven. A good first step..."


	8. The Calm Before

**Academy City, District 3, September 30th, Morning**

"Where IS that moron?" Kuroko seethed to herself, as she waited in the magnificent ground floor lobby of the Academy Heights hotel, where ACME had been put up in the Penthouse suites for the duration of their stay in the city. She paid little notice to the opulent surroundings, having grown up in similar environments. Her family might not be as wealthy as say, Kongou's, since they owned an entire airline and aerospace development corporation, but Kuroko's family was well within the top 5 percent of income across the world. In her time before coming to Academy City, Kuroko had only stayed in hotels like this one if there was absolutely no other choice, her family preferring to rent a chateau or stay with friends in a guest house, or take a yacht. She tried to emulate Onee-Sama though, and didn't let her family's wealth, power or influence weigh on how she treated other people, or thought of the less fortunate. Well, except for a certain TROGLODYTE that is, who was at least 10 minutes late already, leaving her standing around in the foyer, a very obvious singleton amidst a group of pairs, all the other City Guides having mustered on time or early for their daily duties!

 _Is he doing this deliberately?_ Kuroko thought savagely, all too aware of the subtle whisperings between some of the other guide pairs as they saw her standing there all on her lonesome. An insult to their honored guests just waiting to happen, an unintentional snub to one of the ACME members who would be forced to make do with one Guide instead of the two everyone else was getting. It would make the City look disorganized and incompetent, that they couldn't even manage to get all their hand selected City Guides into place to meet their guests on time. Worse, it would make Kuroko look disorganized and incompetent, like she couldn't even coordinate with her own partner, like she was airheaded and careless and all those other negative epithets people liked to apply to rich girls. _After all, he's just a punk right? What does it matter to him if he makes us all look like bumbling fools? It won't hurt his prospects any, he doesn't have any further to fall! Oh, that evil son of a bitch, is he truly so dedicated to making my dreams of being worthy of Onee-Sama fail that he's willing to sabotage the entire City's pride just to drag me down into the muck with him?_

She took out her phone and extended the roll-out, see-through LCD screen, but she saw no messages from Uiharu, whom she had contacted several minutes before, putting in a firmly worded request for her to try and use her computer skills to track down the location of the Troglodyte, whose name would never dirty Kuroko's lips if she had any choice in the matter. Normally something like that would be a snap for Uiharu, but apparently the Troglodyte didn't have a phone with a GPS chip in it, and wasn't on any of the public transportation systems, so tracking him down was taking a lot longer, especially since Uiharu wasn't at the Judgment office and so lacked easy access to all the public safety camera feeds she normally had. If only she knew where the Troglodyte was, she could just teleport out and drag him back, preferably by the ankle with his thick skull bouncing off the pavement after every teleport hop!

 _Then again..._ Kuroko reminded herself with a frown, recalling that horrid incident where the Troglodyte had come calling at the dorm, looking for Onee-Sama for reasons Kuroko still did not comprehend fully. She'd hoped to pump him for information about what was bothering Onee-Sama back then, but the Dorm Supervisor had been making random room checks and she'd had to go out and distract her before the moron got discovered! She shuddered a little, even now, weeks later, at the thought of what would have occured if the Dorm Supervisor had found the Troglodyte in her room. She would never have heard the end of it. She'd have been ruined. Destroyed. Crippled forever! So she'd tried to send him outside, but her power wouldn't work on him. She'd thought at first that it was just her panic that had disordered her mind and screwed up her calculations, but she didn't usually panic like that. It was yet another mystery that she vowed to track down and figure out during her enforced captivity with the Troglodyte as a City Guide.

The sound of running footsteps and panting breathing drew her attention, her eyes shining like hellish lamps of fury as she saw the Troglodyte come sprinting into the foyer, a worried and sheepish look on his face. He turned his head from side to side, clearly looking for her, but failed to watch where he was going, and caught his foot on an ornamental flower pot and tripped headlong down a short flight of marble stairs into the atrium of the foyer, smashing into the ground with such incredible force Kuroko half expected to see cracks radiating through the dressed stone slabs! She took a step forward in instinctive reaction, her Judgment training making her concerned for his health, before she recalled who it was, and all her many, many reasons for detesting his very existence. She watched the Trog scrabble to his feet, surprisingly unharmed from such a dire fall, his dignity in tatters but then again, it had pretty much started that way. Sighing with long suffering dismay, Kuroko teleported over to him and steadied him, grimacing as she was forced to touch him, taking him by the right hand.

"Sorry I'm late, but I..." The troglodyte began to say, rubbing at his spiky hair in a rueful manner.

"Do not even tell me about it." Kuroko groaned. "I am sure there was some MAJOR emergency that required you to put the PRIDE of the City, and MY GOOD NAME, at risk, but that is in the past now. So do not sully my ears and try my patience with your flimsy excuses, Troglodyte." She said with heavy sarcasm, to make sure she conveyed her feelings.

"... are you really gonna call me that this whole time?" Touma asked in dismay. "And seriously, I had to take care of my roommate..."

"What, was he dying or something? Seriously, can you not prioritize a little? If you screw up your guide duties, you are making EVERYONE look bad, not just you! Have a care for other people!"

"No she wasn't dying, though she likes to pretend sometimes. I had to make sure there was enough food for her to last the day until I returned. If she went hungry, it'd be ME that was dying, after I got home..."

"SHE!?" Kuroko went rigid as she processed that bit of information. _He has a FEMALE roommate? That is completely against the rules for anyone below the university level. Doesn't he know I'm a Judgment officer? And he just casually admits to breaking the rules to me like this? He really is a moron. No, WAIT! A female roommate... sharing the room with a woman... this boy... what... surely it cannot be platonic... but Onee-Sama is so caught up in him... but he's living with another girl the whole time?! This bastard is seriously going to try to add Onee-Sama to his slutty harem? I'll kill him... I must kill him!_

"You've got that evil look on your face again." Touma pointed out, a trifle nervously. "It really doesn't suit you as well as a smile does, you know?"

"You mean a smile like this?" Kuroko said, grinning widely at him, showing every last tooth, as she made some quick calculations. Just a quick teleport across the foyer to the other guides. But, oh, how clumsy of her, she'd just "accidentally" invert his arrival orientation coordinates, so he'd materialize head down and legs up, and smash headlong into the floor like a pro wrestler had just piledrived him!

"No... no that's worse. That looks awful. It makes you look like a serial killer..."

 _Oh but for the opportunity to kill you more than once, Trog, but alas I shall have to content myself with simply scrambling what little brains you have left._ Kuroko said as she reached into that undefinable place within her that activated her power, all her calculations perfectly ordered to guide her, and the meat package at her side, through the 11th dimension, where the constraints of time and space did not apply, allowing for instantaneous transit between two points. She turned, bringing up one hand to cover her grin as she prepared to make her apology to the Trog for her "miscalculation". But something was wrong. They hadn't moved. Not even a fraction of an inch! They were still standing in the same spot! She checked her calculations again... they were perfect! Lovingly crafted as an instrument of revenge even... there was nothing wrong with her calculations! But the teleport hadn't occured! Not for the Trog... and not even for her. Another teleporter could theoretically prevent themselves from being forcibly moved through the 11th dimension through using their own power, but nothing Kuroko had ever heard of could prevent HER from teleporting herself, other than disrupting her concentration, and that hadn't happened!

"Are you ok? You suddenly look pale. Paler than normal I mean." Touma asked with a puzzled look on his face. Kuroko took an involuntary step back, before being halted by the Trog's grip on her hand. She looked down at their clasped hands as if she'd just found herself holding onto a live tarantula, jerking her fingers loose from his grip and porting a dozen feet away, staring at him like he'd just tried to stick a knife in her throat. "Jeez... you were the one who grabbed me, no need to act like I've got cooties. What're you, in elementary school?"

 _Are you TAUNTING me?!_ Kuroko thought increduously, staring at the Trog in disbelief. _What ARE you, Troglodyte? How did you DO that to me? And acting like it's no big deal, like you didn't even realize you were doing it..._ She looked down at her hand, but there was no damage to it, no mark or any sign of the interference she'd experienced while touching the Trog. She did not understand, and that more than anything put a bit of a fright into her. She'd had her power for years now, worked every day to practice it and refine it and strengthen it, and with but a touch of his hand, the Troglodyte had taken all of that from her, reducing her to nothing more than a somewhat slender and undersized teenage girl. Like it was nothing. Like it took him no effort at all to crush all the power she'd worked her whole life to attain! Kuroko gulped heavily, doing some heavy duty revisions to her threat assessment of the Troglodyte. She'd been casually beating on this boy for weeks now whenever she saw him around Onee-Sama, and he'd never once dodged or retaliated... was that not because he was a helpless fool, but because he was just so powerful he could afford to kid around like that because there was no way she could possibly hurt him?

"You Tokiwadai girls really are high strung, aren't you? Biribiri's the same way..." Touma mused with a shrug of bemusement.

"You are SO rude..." Kuroko retorted, steeling herself. She didn't have time right now to think over all the implications of this secret side of the Trog she'd inadvertantly discovered. She redoubled her resolve to watch him carefully though... not just for Onee-Sama's sake, but for her own curiosity, and potentially her own safety, as well. "Just shut up... Kamijou-san." She said stiffly. "You are lucky the ACME Espers have not come down yet. But you had better not be late again in the future. Or I will hunt you down and drag you here by the scruff of your neck if I have to. Even if I have to kick down your dorm door to do it." _Yes, definitely this dorm room could use some investigating. And this female roommate of his too. As an officer of Judgment, it is my duty to investigate such potential breaches of City rules..._

The ding of the main elevator drew her mind away from plotting the Trog's downfall, and she and the other City Guides all turned to face the atrium elevator as it doors slide soundlessly open, revealing the ACME Espers. They were still dressed in their uniforms, perhaps having not brought casual clothes, or more likely, for the impressive and intimidating look the uniforms gave them. There were six of them, meaning that one had not come down, and a quick glance through their ranks showed Kuroko that it was the junior female officer, Lieutenant Nordstrom, who was apparently not going out that day. She wondered why, and resolved to find a way to ask whichever Esper she ended up assigned to for the day. The ACME Level 5, the black skinned woman, stepped forward, her eyes cool and analytical as she studied the grouped City Guides, the silence stretching a little awkwardly for a moment.

"Kurt." The Level 5, Major Findley if Kuroko recalled correctly, indicated a pair of guides opposite Kuroko and the Trog. "Vince." She indicated the next pair in line. "Wiley." She indicated the third pairing, and then paused, looking back and forth between the guides and the last two members of ACME. One was a younger man, high school age, with lightly tanned and freckled skin and close buzzed blond hair and blue eyes, who stood behind a wheelchair, holding the back mounted push handles. He wore chevrons on his sleeves, instead of the collar mounted rank tabs of the other Espers. The man in the wheelchair looked to be older than all the other Espers, except for Major Findley, somewhere in his low to mid twenties, with almost consumptive pale skin and a sallow complexion, like he rarely if ever managed to get out into natural sunlight. He was completely bald, and his eyes were a murky brown, seemingly unfocused, as if he were dazed... or actually, more likely drugged, judging from the IV line stuck into the back of his hand, and the oxygen line that was taped to the side of his neck, running up into his left nostril. That would be the last ACME Esper, the Level 2, Warrant Officer JD. The one with the unexplained but plainly serious health issues.

"Jon and JD." Major FIndley said, pointing at Kuroko and Touma, apparently deciding they were best suited for the task, or maybe the least threatening of the various City Guide pairings. She then moved to the last on-duty pair of guides, her subordinates breaking apart with almost parade ground precision, marching rather than walking over to their various assigned guides. Yet more performance, yet more intimidation tactics, stressing ACME's military nature and pride against the rather more casual, though still quite proud, Academy City students.

Remembering Onee-Sama's actions from the day before, Kuroko resolved not to let the actions or antics of the outsider Espers discomfit her or throw her off her game, reminding herself yet again that not only was she representing the City as a whole, but in specific she was serving as a representative of Tokiwadai, and in her opinion, as a representative of Onee-Sama as well. That made it absolutely imperative that she put forth her truly best efforts, and impress the ACME Espers as much as possible, so they would be properly respectful of everything and everyone she represented. She bowed with full formality to the two approaching ACME members, stamping subtly on the Trog's foot to make sure he was distracted and incapable of ruining the first impressions more than he naturally did simply by existing.

"I am Shirai Kuroko from Tokiwadai Middle School, and I welcome you to Academy City, Warrant Officer JD and...?" Kuroko trailed off, realizing that the other ACME Esper's rank had not been stated, at least not anywhere she had heard, and she was unable to decipher his sleeve insignia, not being familiar with American Military rank structure.

"Sergeant Jonathon Sherman." The young man pushing the wheelchair said, his Japanese a little stilted but very understandable, and probably better than the Trog's English at least. Besides, ACME was the visiting party, and while they were due the respect and consideration of guests, it was still a good concession on their part to use the language of the place they were visiting. For that matter, it simply made sense... they probably wouldn't want their hosts to be able to talk about them in front of them without understanding what was being said. Still, Japanese was not the easiest language to learn, especially for native English speakers, and Kuroko briefly wondered how long this ACME visit had been planned, if they had time to get all their visiting members at least passingly fluent in Japanese, presumably both speaking and written. "Or, I guess Sherman Jonathon, if I was to use the proper naming convention around here." The young sergeant added with a somewhat sheepish smile. He didn't bow in return, but then again Kuroko hadn't really expected him to, despite it not being polite in her opinion.

"Kamijou Touma." Touma said, extending his hand to shake Jonathon's, surprising Kuroko with his knowledge of foreign greeting customs. Then again, she couldn't know about how many foreigners Touma had met, during various encounters with the Magic Side. Usually as enemies, but he'd had enough peaceful encounters to learn a smattering of ways to politely greet people from other international cultures. Jonathon's shake was firm and confident, though Touma noticed that the ACME man always kept his other hand on one of the push handles of the wheelchair at all times. Clearly he took his caretaker duties to the Warrant Officer very seriously.

For his part, the Warrant Officer neither said nor did anything in particular. A thin trickle of drool escaped the corner of his mouth and glistened on his chin for a moment, before Jonathon noticed and quickly wiped it away with a cloth tucked into a pouch on the back of the wheelchair. His dulled eyes continued looking straight ahead, a ten thousand yard stare that made him seem like he was looking straight through everything in front of him without really seeing it at all. His arms were neatly folded in his lap, and he sat firmly upright in the wheelchair, so clearly he wasn't completely vegetative, but it seemed to be taking all of whatever physical and mental resources he had simply to sit upright in the chair, and he had none to spare for returning greetings, formally or casually.

"Please forgive JD, his medicine tends to make him zone out a lot." Jonathon said, with a fond smile at his charge. "He's perfectly aware of you, and his surroundings, but its very rare for him to have enough energy to speak, much less shake hands."

"I've been there before." Touma said feelingly, remembering multiple hospital stays where he'd been pumped full of so many painkillers that he hadn't even been able to feel his own body for days. Usually that was a good thing, though he recalled at least one incident where Imouto had put his hand on her chest to check his pulse or something, her body obviously an exact carbon copy of Misaka's, literally on her breasts, and he'd been too numb to feel anything at all, much less take advantage of the situation for a quick feel, as even the most honorable red blooded male would be tempted to do in that kind of scenario. "Its a pleasure to meet you, JD." He said, waving in a friendly fashion at the unmoving, nonreactive Warrant Officer.

"Yes, it is a pleasure." Kuroko echoed, displeased at the Trog seizing the initiative, and so easily and naturally too. Her own first meeting with him had not showcased any of this easy gregarity with others, just the opposite even, he'd come across as barely sentient, dumb as a post. "Is there anywhere in particular you two would like to visit today? And please, feel free to ask questions, we are here to assist you in any way we can."

"Anywhere with handicapped access." Jonathon replied at once, again glancing at JD.

"Fortunately, almost all of Academy City is engineered to be accessible to people with physical disabilities." Kuroko replied with an encouraging smile. Though it probably had more to do with the need for cleaning and security robots to have access to buildings than any particular care for the handicapped, as there were relatively few disabled persons in Academy City, most of them research subjects at various hospitals, she reflected privately. "I was recently in a wheelchair myself due to some injuries I suffered in the line of duty, and I had no trouble getting around, so you need not worry about that."

"Well I don't know about you three, but I could stand to get something to eat. I didn't have time for breakfast this morning, getting everything arranged in time to get out here." Touma said, rubbing his complaining stomach feelingly. _And since Index isn't around, I might actually get to eat a meal without making my wallet cry in agony._

"That sounds good to me!" Jonathon said with a big smile. "I didn't have time to grab any of the room service this morning, since I was helping JD get ready. Lead the way!"

xxxx

 **District 7, School Garden, Later in the Morning**

"Damn my luck..." Touma sobbed as he contemplated the menu at the bistro that Kuroko had insisted they go to, after shooting down his first three suggestions for breakfast places on the trip across the city. The sheer disdain she'd displayed upon his request to go to McDonalds was still shriveling his balls, almost thirty minutes later. So what if it was an American food place? So what if JD and Jonathon had probably grown up eating there on a regular basis? It was cheap, and tasty, and convenient. All things that Touma valued very much. But no, Kuroko had been very insistent that if the ACME Esper's had come all the way across the ocean to visit Academy City and Japan, they ought to enjoy some local cuisine while they had the opportunity. And she had taken a look at the menus of the two traditional japanese places he'd suggested and promptly turned up her nose at them too. Perhaps because they'd been more like food carts or roadside stands than full on restaurants. Again, cheap, tasty and convenient, his personal three criteria for finding food that he didn't want to cook himself. It didn't have to be food as an art form, if he wanted fancy or super delicious, he'd just cook at home, since he could get top quality food that way for far cheaper than any restaurant.

He was prepared to concede that the bistro's food was tasty. It was in the famous School Garden after all, and he doubted any food place occupying that patch of real estate could afford to be anything but as tasty as possible in order to keep their business afloat amongst the many discerning appetites of the Ojou-Sama's that populated the Garden. Then again, if the price tag on each menu item was any indication, it had BETTER be tasty, because he was certain he could have cooked a meal for ten for the same price it cost to buy his own breakfast! Just his own breakfast, not even counting what Kuroko, Jonathon and JD got! The truly sad part of it all, of course, was that even this dire outcome was still better than he usually got off, with Index hanging around. His wallet was crying, no doubt about that, but it was not screaming in agony as it was wrung dry like a heretic on an inquisitor's rack!

"Did you say something?" Kuroko asked darkly, sitting by his side at the windowside table they'd gotten. Her posture was stiff and she looked uncomfortable... not because of the seat itself, but simply because she obviously didn't like being near him, for reasons Touma still couldn't understand. He wasn't all that comfortable sitting next to her either, if only because of the aura of threat she exuded, and the way she nearly flinched and twitched her hand towards her hidden spikes under her skirt every time he made any motion that even might put him accidentally in contact with her. Touma had been in knock-down, drag-out fights where he'd felt less threat and animosity and suspicion from his opponent than he currently felt from Kuroko just by sitting near her at breakfast. He felt like the slightest accident, the merest stumble or trip or fall, that put him into contact with her for even a moment, was going to get the shit stomped out of him in response, without mercy. Like he was sitting next to a girl shaped bomb, with both pressure and proximity triggers.

And that was a big problem, because Touma knew his luck, and aside from a few pratfalls on the trip across the city, it hadn't been all that bad so far that morning. Far from being a cause for relief, that made him suspect it was building up to something major. Something truly dire. Being in the School Garden was giving him very bad vibes. It was normally completely off limits to males, even the various service staff were all female, but as a City Guide, he had special dispensation to escort the ACME Espers pretty much anywhere in the city. Aoigami and Tsuchimikado no doubt would be green with envy when they heard about it, as the School Garden was a paradise in the eyes of single guys in the rest of the city... tons and tons and tons of pretty young girls, all of them wealthy, and isolated from the wiles of other men... it was a cornucopia of teenage dreams all right. Or nightmares, if you were Touma. It was going to happen. He was going to trip. Or slip. Or stumble. Or walk around a corner without looking first. Or simply open the wrong door at the wrong time. He'd get an eyeful of some very lush skin, or some very decorative underwear. Maybe even a handful of said lush skin. A brief taste of paradise. More like a taunt than a reward though.

Because then all hell would break loose. There would be screams. Shouting. A public disturbance. Accusations of being a molester. Maybe an angry mob of Ojou-Samas, many of whom were powerful Espers, chasing him through the streets with bloodshed on their minds. Perhaps even lawsuits to come, though good luck to them for getting any money out of his pathetic bank account! But that wouldn't stop him getting stomped to roadkill in the process, and it wasn't like he could bring himself to fight back. Maybe, just maybe, the presence of JD and Jonathon would help calm things down. Though he wondered what they would think when they saw his true misfortune in action? He'd been getting on surprisingly well with Jonathon, who was about the same age as him, since first meeting him. This despite the fact that they had almost nothing in common.

Jonathon, he'd learned, was a member of the Sherman family, a old money clan who had long been part of the US military, his great-grandfather having been William Tecumsah Sherman, a famous Civil War commander for the northern states. He'd been such a successful general that they'd named the most commonly produced American battle tank after him during World War 2, which in turn led to Jonathon being called Sergeant Tank by most of the ACME Espers. On the social class and wealth scale, he actually hailed from a background that made even Kuroko look a bit like a peasant. He was very down to earth and practical though, and very considerate of others, which earned him Touma's respect right away. Just watching Jonathon tend to JD, wheeling him around, wiping drool off his face, talking to him, including him in every conversation even though JD never spoke or even really reacted to anything... it was an inspiring show of kindness and character. None of Touma's friends were disabled, at least not physically... he had concerns about some of them when it came to common sense... but if any were, he liked to think he would be as good with them as Jonathon was with JD, even though it was hard and thankless and messy work.

"Nothing." Touma belatedly replied to Kuroko, as he watched Jonathon and JD eat from across the table. It was obvious that Jonathon came from a silver spoon family... emphasis on the spoon, and not chopsticks, since he was very clumsy with them, using them more like spears than gripping tools, to move bundles of rice and broiled fish to his mouth, and to JD's, picking from each of their plates in alternation. The Sergeant was making a good try of things, but also making a terrible mess, especially of the napkin that he'd tucked into JD's collar to serve as a bib. Once the food was in JD's mouth, he could chew and swallow it himself, but he had trouble keeping it in his mouth at times. Almost like feeding a baby, though JD obviously wasn't intentionally being messy, he simply didn't have the bodily control to keep the food where it belonged.

"Do you want some help?" Touma asked, for about the third time. Jonathon had politely declined each prior time, but the mess was only growing, and it didn't seem like Jonathon was growing particularly more proficient with the task over time. The Ojou-Sama Students getting their morning before-school meal in the bistro had better manners than to point, laugh or whisper, but Touma could feel the looks all the same.

"I think I may have to concede that I do, Touma." Jonathon replied with a despairing shake of his head as he put down the chopsticks. "Either that or we need to ask for some western utensils. I really wanted to try the local methods, but I clearly need a lot more practice."

It was a little odd, being addressed so casually on a first name basis by someone he barely knew, but then again, Americans didn't use honorifics the same way Japanese did, and clearly Jonathon had little idea he was doing it, though Touma did notice Kuroko twitching a little each time she was addressed the same way. "No problem." Touma said with a grin. "Even I use a spoon and fork sometimes you know. Chopsticks are traditional and all, but that doesn't always mean they're the most efficient dining tools. Elegant, but not efficient." He reached across and picked up some rice and fish from JD's plate and stretched further to bring the morsel up to the Esper's mouth, carefully guiding it past JD's slowly opening lips, and holding it there until he closed them again. It took whole seconds for JD to even make the slightest movements.

"I just didn't practice enough, really, its my fault." Jonathon said with a sigh. "But since I'm a Level 0, I'm usually put in charge of taking care of JD. And that's fine. I love JD like an older brother. He might be my best friend in the whole world." Jonathon patted JD on the forearm as he spoke, drawing no response. "But he's a handful and a half to assist, even for the most basic tasks, as you can see. So even though I don't have any Ability to practice or improve, I'm always behind on my academic classes." He sighed again and leaned back in his chair, and gave a small sardonic grin. "In truth I probably don't even deserve to be here, as part of ACME's delegation. I'm the biggest failure in the whole program, but my family provides a lot of the funding and political clout for the Project, so they can't just hide me in the back room like they want to."

"Being a Level 0 doesn't make you a failure." Touma replied stoutly. "I'm a level 0. And yeah, I have academic troubles too. All the stuff about Personal Reality and AIM Diffusion Fields and stuff... it just doesn't make sense to me, no matter how much I go over it. I'm about as regular and everyday a guy as it gets. But that doesn't make me a bad guy, or a failure as a person. Same goes for you, I think. Who cares about your Ability, or lack of one? Anyone who watches you interact with JD for even a minute knows you're a great person, Sergeant."

"Seriously, you call yourself "regular and everyday"?" Kuroko cut in incredulously, arching an eyebrow at him. "You are many things, Kamijou-san. Quite a few of them I cannot describe around young children. But regular and everyday are not terms I would use for you." She took a deep, almost calming breath. "But as much as I hate to agree with you, you are correct in your opinion about Sherman-san. As far as any male could ever impress me, Sherman-san definitely has."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but do you two have some sort of weird history or something? My Japanese isn't perfect, but I'm sensing a lot of tension between you two." Jonathon pointed out, ignoring their praise. They simply didn't understand the pressure to succeed he was under, and the continual shame he brought on his family by being singularly unable to manifest even the merest dreg of Esper ability. Unlike Touma, he understood the theory just fine, he just couldn't make it WORK! He appreciated their compliments, but that didn't make him any less of a failure as a member of ACME, good only for menial tasks and taking care of the Outcast of ACME, Warrant Officer JD. And maybe for civilians, being constantly regulated to taking care of a handicapped teammate was no big deal. But for a member of the military, being forced to stay on the sidelines, always on the bench, was a serious and continual blow to his pride and self satisfaction. He hadn't lied... he loved JD like a brother... but that didn't stop him from wishing he could do more than just serve as a nurse for him.

"You kinda remind me of my sister and her ex-boyfriend actually." Jonathon went on, before either of his guides could reply. "That frosty tone of voice, the total reluctance to agree even on simple things, the instinctive urge to nitpick everything the other says... pardon me if its none of my business, but did you two just have a messy breakup or something?"

"..." Touma sucked in a deep breath, every muscle in his body tensing as he watched Kuroko turn purple, her hair seeming to writhe like tentacles around her head as she wrestled with the very idea that she and he might have been dating. She looked fit to chew steel and spit nails. She looked like she was about to kill everyone around her. He quickly leaned forward to feed JD another bite, taking the cowardly but sensible way out, hoping that Kuroko wouldn't do anything too harmful to him while he was helping a disabled person.

"Let me be very clear." Kuroko ground out, in strangled tones. "Kamijou-san and I are merely acquaintances. Grudging ones at that. I have my own reasons... personal, private reasons... for not liking Kamijou-san. I am doing my best not to let those feelings intrude upon my duties as a City Guide. Please REFRAIN from making any further inquiries on our relationship, largely coincindental and unwanted as it is." She smiled, more like a grimace really. "I don't even LIKE boys. And I certainly don't LIKE Kamijou-san."

"I get what you're saying." Jonathon replied with an easy grin. "My sister was the same way after the breakup. Wanted to completely deny everything. Refused to acknowledge any past feelings, tried to forget all the happy memories, even started saying she loathed men in general. You're actually handling it a lot better than she did. She wanted to cut his... well, you know... off, and force feed it to him, for weeks after the breakup."

 _WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? Are you kidding me? What are you doing? Are you deliberatly trying to get me killed? Or worse? Please don't give her ideas..._ Touma whined piteously to himself. He tried to brace himself, but didn't succeed in time, as Kuroko slammed both fists down on the tabletop in her fury, half rising to glare at Sergeant Sherman with a deadly expression. She opened her mouth to tell him off in no uncertain terms, but her abrupt and violent actions had triggered Touma's instinctive "female aggression flinch" reflex. He jumped and tried to scoot away from her at the same time, sending his arm flailing wilding, depositing fish and rice and soy sauce all over JD's barely blinking face, and sending glasses and plates flying from his and Kuroko's side of the table. Food and tea and orange juice and milk went flying everywhere. Most of it right onto Kuroko, since she was leaning over the table by that point. Splashing all over her uniform, from neck to thighs, soaking her shirt and jacket, and utterly fouling her clothing.

"Oh shit..." Touma groaned, as his luck kicked in with a vengeance. He cringed, throwing up his arms as he tried to get as close to curled up in a fetal ball as possible, legs tightly closed and pulled up towards his chest to try and protect as many vulnerable spots as possible. A moment later his manners reminded him of their existence, and he figured he probably couldn't make the situation any worse by making an attempt at assistance, so he snatched up a napkin in his right hand and held it out to Kuroko apologetically. True to form however, his good intentions only made things worse. Literally shaking with rage, Kuroko had spun towards him, soaked to the skin in drink, and her pristine uniform an unholy mess of rice and fish bits. His extended hand almost jabbed her in the chest, right over the Tokiwadi crest on her right breast. His knuckles barely brushed her outer uniform jacket, but Kuroko was already flinching back from him in turn, recalling all too well the mysterious threat his touch posed from her experience that morning, and wanting none of it. Without even thinking about it, she sought escape in the most expeditious and familiar manner possible, and teleported a few feet backwards.

Which was perfectly successful, as Touma had not touched her directly. However, he HAD been touching her uniform jacket, and so it was unwilling or unable to be teleported along with the rest of her, held in the strictly 3 dimensional universe by the anti-supernatual power of Imagine Breaker. Thus leaving Kuroko in her button up school shirt. Her fine, silky, white... and soaking wet... button up school shirt. And as white clothes tended to do when soaking wet, the whole front of her shirt, from collar to hem, had become more or less translucent. Providing a somewhat blurred but still quite definite view of the front of Kuroko's body, from collarbone to waist, showing off her slender hips, washboard stomach, and most especially her small but not entirely nonexistant breasts, or at least the lacy red and black lingerie bra that supported them. Her uniform jacket fluttered down to land on top of Touma's outstretched hand, hiding his fist and the napkin it clutched, so that it looked to an outside observer as if he'd just grabbed her jacket intentionally.

"Damn..." Jonathon said in an undertone, an impressed look on his face as he looked Kuroko up and down appreciatively. Even JD had turned his head, just a few degrees, but enough to put Kuroko square in the middle of his field of view, quite a thing coming from a guy who could barely even chew his own food! "I guess it is true what Vince was saying about Japanese Schoolgirls. Shy outside... hot inside..."

 _Do you have NO VOCAL FILTER?_ Touma shrieked inside his head, frozen in horror at the compounding situation. Fortunately, Kuroko seemed just as shocked and horrified as he was, gaping openmouthed at her uniform jacket, before registering her exposure. She didn't scream or cower though, she didn't even try to cover herself. She just filled her hands with her customized spikes and prepared to cull the herd a little. Murder gleamed in her eyes as the various other students in the bistro finally began reacting, their attention riveted upon the dramatic spectacle in their midst. Astounding enough to have boys in the Garden, but now here was a Tokiwadai student having some sort of scuffle with the boys while they undressed her! In public! This would certainly be the talk of the Garden for the rest of the day!

Jonathon belatedly seemed to realize that this had progressed past the point of being funny. That might have had something to do with him recalling that Lieutenant Nordstrom was Piggybacking her senses onto JD for at least part of the day. She was seeing and hearing everything in real time. Maybe even tasting and smelling too, he didn't know how many of her senses she'd shifted. He got on well enough with Melanie. She wasn't as mean or disdainful as some of the other Espers could be anyway. But he dreaded to think of what she'd be putting in her daily report to Major Findley regarding this. He lurched to his feet, and swiftly removed his own uniform jacket, revealing a plain olive green T shirt beneath. Before either of the two Guides could react further, he stepped forward and draped his jacket over Kuroko's shoulders, covering her again, and bringing her impending rampage to a halt as she struggled to react to the occurence. Generally speaking after all, people FLED from her when she was this angry, rather than approaching her and even deigning to touch her!

"There, there, it was just an accident. Just some bad luck." Jonathon pointed out, as soothingly as possible. "No need to get all bent out of shape over a little spilled milk. I apologize for my comments. I was out of line. No real harm done though, right?"

"No harm done!?" Kuroko replied, her voice a rising near-shriek.

"No harm done." Jonathon repeated, placing both his hands on her shoulders and forcibly turning her away from Touma. He didn't know the circumstances of their breakup, but clearly it was quite virulent, at least on Kuroko's side of things. It again reminded him of his sister. Her boyfriend had been somewhat unsuitable, sure. A bit of a punk. But not really a bad guy overall. He hadn't cheated on her, he hadn't done anything egregiously wrong that Jonathon could ever figure out, which was why he'd always been puzzled with how extremely his sister had reacted after the breakup. Girls were just scary sometimes, even if you were related to them. He held onto Kuroko firmly, not quite immobilizing her, but certainly providing resistance if she tried to surge away and attack Touma.

The various other students now had something else to gawk and whisper at, as they all took in Jonathon's bare arms and the way the T shirt clung to his body. He might not have been successful as an Esper, but he took his duties as a soldier very seriously, and that included staying in peak physical condition at all times. Long distance marches, at both regular and fast paces, with and without a full pack, sprinting, swimming, obstacle courses, weightlifting, calisthentics, and more, all were frequent, even daily parts of his life. And his body reflected that effort, with muscle definition and stamina to shame many professional athletes. Even sports didn't require the same level of fitness that being a soldier did after all. Not every girl's idea of a dream guy was a muscular hunk, but it was a very odd girl out that didn't appreciate a guy who obviously took great care of his body, like Sergeant Jonathon Sherman did.

And if his muscles didn't draw their eyes, the pistol holstered at the small of his back certainly did. Firearms weren't unknown in Academy City, but they were generally only seen in the possession of Anti-Skill, not someone of high school age. The weapon was a matte black semi-auto Beretta 9mm, the official handgun of the US Army, along with several spare clips in loops attached to the holster. As a concession to Academy City, only one magazine held lethal rounds, the rest of Jonathon's clips were loaded with rubber tipped rounds which would flatten immediately upon contact with any solid surface, transferring immense kinetic force, enough to stun and bruise and maybe even break a bone, but not breaking the skin or destroying organs. It was a potent weapon, and a potent reminder to anyone who saw it that though Jonathon lacked any Esper power, he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, and protecting JD as well.

Whether or not his muscles, his training or his gun would have enabled him to deal with the livid Kuroko, bristling with fury even as she held his draped jacket closed over her soaked clothing, was less clear. However, before she could decide which course of action to take, whether to decimate Touma for causing the situation, or punish Jonathon for his attempts to protect the Trog against his richly deserved punishment, a new factor entered the game. "Just WHAT is going on here?" An all too familiar, and much beloved voice, asked from over towards the lobby doors of the bistro, accompanied by the ferocious crackle of tightly controlled electrical energies. Kuroko didn't even need to look to see who had arrived, nor to decide upon her next course of action.

"Onee-samaaa!" She sobbed, teleporting out of Jonathon's coat and flinging herself at her most beloved person, arms extended to grab and hold. A second too late, she realized that the crackle of electricity had only increased rather than decreasing, which meant that she was about to land chest first on a human tesla coil, while wearing soaking wet clothes. She made contact and had the most fleeting moment of bliss as she collided with her beloved Onee-Sama, before the surging current smashed into her like the grill of a speeding truck and blasted her backwards, trailing bolts of sparking electricity, her whole body numb and twitching, her clothing smoking in spots! It wasn't the worst she'd ever been shocked by Onee-Sama, but it was up there in the top ten, her wet skin and clothing increasing the conductivity of her body, bypassing a good deal of her natural resistance to such shocks. She slid to the ground in a quivering heap, fingers twitching spastically, eyes squeezed shut with the beautiful pain of it all... after all this wasn't just electricity, this was Onee-Sama's own power coursing so violently through her flesh, and as such she welcomed its touch, even as it hurt. She turned her head towards the three miscreant males, and would have smiled if she'd been able to control her facial muscles. NOW they were really in trouble...

xxxx

 **20 minutes later, headed towards School Garden outer gates**

"You just can't stay out of trouble, can you?" Misaka said in accusatory tones, as she strode along the cobblestone street at Touma's side. It hadn't taken too long to get things straightened out at the bistro, and there had been no need to unleash any shocks upon anyone but Kuroko, who had been over-reacting as usual. Just a little accident, a little mess, and a lot of hair trigger temper. Misaka could wish that her friend would get along with Touma better, but also understood that simply wasn't going to happen. Touma was just an aggravating sort of guy, even as he was among the most admirable guys she knew. Certainly he was the only guy anywhere close to her own age that she found even mildly interesting. She darted a glance at him out of the corner of her eyes, peering through her bangs to disguise the movement, not that the idiot was even watching, of course. She caught herself a second later and forced herself to stare straight ahead again, glad that Kuroko was behind her, since her friend would no doubt read entirely the wrong things from the way she felt the heat on her cheeks blossom into a small blush.

 _He's interesting._ She admitted to and reminded herself. _Just interesting. That's all, interesting. In an oddball, trainwreck, goofy loser kind of way. That's it. He's just interesting to me. Nothing more. So it doesn't MEAN anything that I want to look at him. I'm just studying an interesting phenomenon._

"It's not like I seek it out. It just happens to me." Touma protested, somewhat half-heartedly, tilting his head up and rubbing the back of his skull ruefully. He glanced aside and looked at Misaka in profile as she walked at his side, just a half meter away or so, glad that she was looking straight ahead so she couldn't see his covert glance. He forced himself to look ahead again after a moment or two, well aware that if he didn't, he was just begging for another example of his bad luck to rear up and bite him on the ass. Given how many times he'd tripped or walked into things or people while he was watching out for it, turning his eyes aside to look away from where he was walking was just begging for an incident. _Damn it. When she's not trying to pick a fight, she sure is cute. A bit of an oddball, and neurotic to the bone, but then, I kinda like that. Better that than putting on airs or getting all arrogant about her power. She is interesting. That's a safe admission, isn't it? Even if no one would ever believe I meant it platonically if I told her._ Touma quirked his lips for a millisecond. _Not even me..._

"Sure it does." Misaka replied with heavy sarcasm. "You've never poked your nose into someone else's business and gotten wrecked in the process. Oh no, not you. You've never been taken to the Emergency Room with more of your blood on the ground than in your body because you fought against someone you never would have even crossed paths with if you were just minding your own business..." She rolled her eyes in exasperation. _And people have the nerve to tell me that I'M in denial. Which I'm obviously not. I admitted he's interesting. That's not denying anything._

"Heh heh heh..." Touma laughed uneasily. "I was just doing what anyone would have done. Its not like I could have let that experiment keep happening..."

"What anyone would have done?" Misaka retorted skeptically, with a raised eyebrow as she turned her head to quickly look at him again, frowning when she saw he wasn't watching again. _Damned idiot, just strolling along in total oblivion... not that I would WANT him to be looking at me or anything! But we are having a conversation. Isn't it polite to look at who you're speaking to?_ "Anyone would have called Anti-Skill or Judgment and gotten the proper authorities involved. Anyone would NOT have have run all over the city, broken into my dorm room, searched through my most private things, then tracked me down, confronted me, gotten shocked almost to death, then gotten up, run off, and fought the 1st ranked Level 5 in the City. And won. So no, you didn't do what ANYONE would have done. You did just about the OPPOSITE." She glanced away again, hoping it would give her cheeks time to cool down and resume their normal shade.

Touma sneaked another look at her after she'd finished her tirade, seeing the back and side of her head as she stared hard at the cobblestones on the far side of her from him, her whole posture stiff and tense. Her hand was white knuckled on the handle of her school briefcase, her shoulders a little hunched, her feet striking the cobblestones somewhat more forcefully than strictly necessary. Not quite stomping, but certainly not a casual walk either. _I didn't do it because I like you._ Touma replied directly, within the safety of his own mind. That was the truth, but he couldn't say it like that. She'd read it entirely the wrong way. Like a putdown, a cold shoulder. It HADN'T been special feelings for Misaka or her Sisters in particular that had motivated him to act that night. He had acted because it was the right thing to do, and because he couldn't simply stand by and watch such horrors unfold. Not while he had an ounce of strength or a drop of blood remaining in his body anyway.

 _I DO like you, but I didn't do that because I like you._ He amended his reply within his head, still watching her as she studied the cobblestones intently, clearly gathering her composure after her tirade. _I'd always act to protect your happiness, Biribiri. Not because you're my friend, or because I like you as more than a friend, or I could if I had the freedom to have that sort of life, but because you DESERVE to be happy. Anything else I feel for you is just extra incentive not to fail when I do fight for you._ He opened his mouth to convey that to her, but stopped himself before he could open a door he wasn't ready or really willing to open. _Of course, part of protecting your happiness, Biribiri, means protecting you from my Curse, and from the chaos of my life. The less you know, the safer you are._ "I did call Anti-Skill actually. That was the first thing I did after I found 10031 dead in the alley. Despite what you may think, I do have some common sense. And respect for law and order. When I find a murder scene, I call the police, I don't try to track the killer down myself. But the other Sister's had already cleaned everything up by the time Anti-Skill arrived. They thought I was pranking them! I thought I was seeing things, until the Sister's came out of the shadows en mass when Anti-Skill left. I came looking for you after that. And I DIDN'T break into your dorm room!" He flushed at that implication, and looked away again. "I was INVITED in, thank you!"

"Really?" Misaka snorted and rolled her eyes again, flicking her head to subtly indicate the party of three that trailed them by about fifteen feet, the two ACME representatives and Kuroko, the latter still draped in Jonathon's uniform jacket to preserve her modesty. They were headed out of the Garden to return to the Dorm, so Kuroko could grab a change of clothes. "You're telling me KUROKO invited YOU into OUR room, just like that?"

"How ELSE would I have gotten in? You think I could or even would just casually burglarize a Tokiwadai Dorm? Have you SEEN the security your building has?" Touma replied shaking his head and shuddering. "She was really polite to me actually." Touma paused and made a connection or two in retrospect. "She doesn't know, does she?"

"Of course not." Misaka huffed, though not without a pang. It didn't feel right, keeping such a big secret from her best friend. But it was for Kuroko's own good. Not to mention her own peace of mind. She shuddered herself, just imagining what sort of perverted frenzy state Kuroko would descend into if she learned there were almost 10,000 identical clones of Misaka out and about in the world. Most of them decidedly more girly in their thought processes than she was, and all of them exceedingly innocent in the ways of the world. "And you'd better not tell her. It would only worry her for nothing, especially now that its all over and done with."

"My lips are sealed. Besides, I don't think she wants to talk to me anytime soon." Touma assured her with a small grin, which she returned, a private compact, their eyes meeting for the first time since they'd started the stroll from the bistro. The eye contact was too much for both of them, a moment of connection they both felt like a lightning bolt to the spine, causing them both to flinch away, looking down at the street or up at the sky again, for their own particular reasons. "In truth, I think she really hates me. Though I can't figure out why." Touma rolled his shoulders, having been feeling Kuroko's venomous glare lasering into his neck since they started walking. If looks could kill, he'd have been cremated by the second step.

"She doesn't hate you." Misaka replied, glad of a chance to switch the topic a little, to gain some time to recover her equilibirum, and let the steam that seemed to be filling her chest and head, making her feel light and hot all over, cool and dissipate a little.

"She's a really good actress then, because it sure seems like she does." Touma pointed out ruefully.

"She doesn't." Misaka insisted. "I don't think Kuroko hates anyone. She has a lot of people she dislikes or finds annoying, but hatred is not something she would do. She just has some trouble expressing herself." _She just has this crazy idea that you're some sort of threat to her relationship with me. As if anything could break our friendship, much less this idiot. Of course, for Kuroko, who knows... she did think he was my boyfriend when she first met him. B-b-but even if he WAS, not that he ever WOULD BE, that wouldn't affect my relationship with her!_

 _Rich coming from you._ Touma thought sardonically, struggling manfully to keep his face straight. "Doesn't seem to me like she has much trouble expressing herself. Those drop kicks to the back of my head have been VERY expressive, actually."

"I'm sorry about that." Misaka apologized in mild constrenation. "Maybe its because you're the first boy I've ever hung out with. I've never seen her do anything like that before. She's very protective of me, maybe she's worried that you're some kind of threat to me." She smiled and rolled her eyes. "Which is ridiculous, as we both know."

 _Less ridiculous than you know, though not in the way Kuroko probably thinks. Or rather, she's right about how I feel, though she doesn't realize it, and she's right about me being a threat to you, just by being around you, though as you say, obviously not out of any desire of mine. She's trying to mark her territory, and I think you're the only one who doesn't see that, Biribiri. Or maybe you do see it, but you don't know how to answer it._ Touma sighed internally. This was a right tangled mess all right, but all the same, he couldn't find it in himself to complain. His whole life was a mess after all, and this particular mess was at least enjoyable, even as it's resolution stung with bittersweet impossibility. He spied the gates to the Garden ahead and felt a pang of sorrow that his leisure would soon be cut short. "Well, with the ACME guys around, she's been on her best behavior, aside from that little incident earlier."

"Yes... that's odd actually. Normally an audience isn't something that restricts Kuroko's actions..." Misaka said contemplatively. Indeed, if she didn't know better, she would almost have said her friend was acting WARY of Touma, perhaps even the slightest bit intimidated by him, which was crazy, because Kuroko wasn't intimidated by anyone or anything. Not even when it might be healthy for her to be a little intimidated, which was why Misaka tried so hard to keep her friend away from the dark side of the City. But all the same, she'd been walking by his side for several minutes now, carrying on a more or less normal conversation, within arm's reach of him. Perfectly innocuous of course, but that had never stopped Kuroko from violently interfering in the past. But all she was doing was glaring at his back. It was a mystery all right...

xxxx

Jonathon studied the couple walking ahead of him with a furrowed brow. Of course he knew who the girl was, he'd recognized her immediately, both from his brief encounter with her on the podium at the welcoming ceremony, and because ACME had a very thick file on her. In fact, ACME had more intelligence on Misaka Mikoto, the Railgun, than they did on any other foreign Esper, since she was the public face of Academy City's Esper program in most respects, the level 5 most involved in research for the greater public good. The full extent of her abilities were of course classified, and perhaps not even fully known... certain incident reports the CIA had picked up over the years, especially concentrated in recent months, showed the Railgun using abilities that vastly exceeded the ones she displayed during Ability Test sessions, including intercepting an orbital ICBM using an experimental Mech-Suit bigger than a city bus as a linear projectile for her signature ability. Several orders of magnitude bigger and more powerful than the arcade coins she used during Ability Tests, yet clearly even that had not strained her beyond her talents!

It was thought that Major Findley was still stronger than the Railgun overall, due perhaps to her age and increased practice, not to mention ACME's rather more rigorous training protocols, but a contest between them wasn't something Jonathon would have wanted to witness without being in a highly secure bunker a long way from the battlefield. But there was no denying that the Railgun was in the top 5 most powerful known Espers in the entire world, and thus one of the most powerful individual people to ever live. And yet she presented to the eye as nothing more than just a middle school girl. Or at least she did right now, which was different from how she'd seemed when he'd seen her on the podium at the welcoming ceremony, when she'd gone point for verbal point with Major Findley in the aftermath of ACME's grand arrival. All level 5's had an aura to them, a mantle of power and responsibility that tended to keep others at a distance, that hint of threat that comes from controlling enough power to level entire city blocks with a mere whim. Railgun's aura had been every bit the equal of the Zephyr Queen's while on the podium, but now, only a day later, he couldn't detect anything at all.

Normally a level 5 walking in a crowd was the center of attention, like a lion prowling loose, even if others might pretend to act normal, it was impossible to ignore the presence of a Level 5. But if Jonathon hadn't known who he was looking at, he wouldn't have looked twice at the Railgun today, just another middle school girl out for a walk with friends before school. Even the other Espers in the School Garden didn't seem to give her any particular extra attention, though all of them had to know who she was. It was startling to say the least, though he didn't quite know what it meant. He resolved to bring it up at the end of the day debriefing regardless. He wondered if the change in her personality might have something to do with Touma, whom she seemed to know, and quite well, judging from the ease of their conversation as they walked along, though he couldn't quite make out what they were actually saying to each other. It had been something of a shock, no pun intended, to find out that both of his and JD's guides for the day were close acquiantances of the Railgun. Shirai was her roommate, and Touma was... well, that was something he was still trying to figure out.

The conversation between the spiky haired guy and the tomboy Level 5, from what little snatches of it he could glean, seemed to be nothing more than idle chatter between friends, referencing common experiences, with a outwardly comfortable and casual flow. But their body language told a VASTLY different story. Both of them were way more tense than their vocal conversation showed, Railgun especially was a knot of tension, and they both kept glancing at each other out of their peripheral vision when the other wasn't watching, then quickly turning away when there was a risk of eye contact. Jonathon frowned as he tried to remember his cultural briefing for the mission, though he didn't seem to recall any particular attention given to the interpersonal relationship customs of Japanese students of different genders. But if they were in America, he'd have sworn blind that the Railgun and Touma had serious hots for each other, but were afraid to show it in public for some reason. They were being REALLY awkward about it, and both were doing their best to hide it, but if they were succeeding, it was only with each other. Anyone else watching could plainly see the attraction between them. Or at least he could anyway.

None of ACME's intelligence on the Railgun had indicated any romantic relationships, and that was definitely the sort of detail the CIA would have dug up if it was available. Of course, the grain of salt there was that Touma hadn't even showed up in the CIA reports as a person of note, much less an apparent good friend of the Railgun, so clearly there were some intelligence failures along the line. It was to be expected. Espionage was never 100 percent accurate. Hell, you were lucky if it was even 50 percent accurate most of the time! But it still was difficult to square what he was seeing with what he knew from his own experiences, not only with Level 5's, but as a level 0. They were complete opposite ends of the power scale, demigods vs ants, and ACME was very thorough in hammering home the worth of a Level 5, and the worthlessness of a Level 0. Even if Major Findley had romantic aspirations... she probably did, somewhere within that pragmatic heart of hers... she would never be allowed to go out with a Level 0. She would never even WANT to, regardless of personality, the power gap was just so large, it could not fail to sabotage the relationship eventually. She might as well date a dog!

Academy City was looser about their control of their Esper's social lives than ACME was, obviously, but he couldn't imagine that the gulf that separated a Level 5 from a Level 0 was any narrower here. Indeed, if the existence of criminal gangs like Skill-Out were any indication, the gulf, the resentment the have-nots had for the few haves, was wider here than in America. At least in ACME, even as a level 0, he was still a fellow soldier, and due the respect demanded of a subordinate from their superior officers. Here in Academy City, a Level 5 owed nothing to anyone beneath them, and could act pretty much how they saw fit... and that turned most of them into tyrants, thrill-killers and sociopaths from what the CIA could discern. Obviously Railgun was an exception to that rule, but that still didn't explain how or why she would be carrying on... or strenuously trying to appear like she wasn't carrying on... with a Level 0. It would offer no benefit to her, and would have many downsides, the social scandal being amongst the least of them!

Of course there was always the human factor to consider, Jonathon reminded himself. Humans would do the craziest of things when their emotions ran away with them, and puberty was ever a time when emotions ran wild, regardless of your culture. It was also when most Esper powers experienced their largest rate of growth, though the correlation between the physical and emotional changes of puberty and the changes to Personal Reality that allowed for rapid Esper power growth was still poorly understood, even as it was definitely observed. He shook his head in confusion. This was definitely something that was over his head to figure out. He almost might have thought he was imagining it all, if it wasn't for the way Shirai was audibly grinding her teeth as she ambled along next to him and JD, his uniform jacket still clutched around her shoulders, even though her shirt was mostly dry by now. He'd heard of the expression of course, but this was the first time he'd ever actually heard someone doing it, the soft sound like a frozen river shifting in a spring thaw.

Jonathon looked over and down at the much shorter redhead, and all doubts about what he was seeing between the Railgun and Touma vanished. The look on Shirai's face was nothing short of murderous, her glare boring into Touma's back like a pair of laser sights on sniper rifles. She was all but trembling with rage, and she wasn't expending a single iota of energy on concealing her feelings. A jealous rage was another thing Jonathon had heard about, but this was his first time seeing it. Clearly her relationship to Touma was even more complicated than he'd first suspected. Given how Shirai had been acting, he was still fairly sure she had the hots for Touma... or HAD had the hots for him, before some sort of breakup had occured and now she loathed him, even as she still seemed focused on him, excaberated by his obvious attraction to her best friend, and that friend's obvious attraction back. A regular love triangle, prime grade teenage drama. It was almost reassuring in some ways, that even powerful Espers could still get all twisted up by the vagaries of the human heart.

Touma really was some sort of amazing guy, Jonathon had to admit. Two of Academy City's most powerful Espers were totally caught up in him, one way or another, and not just powerful Espers, but wealthy and powerful girls from wealthy and powerful families if they were students at Tokiwadai! That was some serious kind of luck right there! Or maybe it was just a good personality. He was the sort of guy that drew you in with his simple but strong morals and his consideration for others, regardless of their social station or life choices. With a little more self confidence, Touma would make for a great Army officer, in Jonathon's opinion. The sort any soldier would be glad to follow into Hell, and right out the other side. Well, perhaps that was laying it on a little thick, but he'd be better than average.

They reached the gate leading out of the Garden area, and Jonathon was both surprised and not-surprised to see that the Railgun showed no signs of just escorting them to the gate and then turning back, but rather seemed intent on staying with them all the way to the Dorm or perhaps even longer. Certainly she didn't seem to want to be seperated from Touma. Shirai's tooth grinding grew louder, to the point where Jonathon started to feel real concern for her continued dental health, but when he glanced at Shirai again, she had managed to get control of her face, at least a little. She no longer looked like she was ready to breathe fire and death, but rather instead looked like she'd just bitten down on a candy thinking it was sweet to find it super-sour instead. Still, the Level 4 kept her peace and seemed to be slowly regaining her equilibrium.

They headed for the tram station that fit into one side of the plaza that fronted the gateway into the School Garden, moving against the tide of students arriving from various school dorms outside the School garden and headed into the posh sanctuary for their next day of classes. There were a bewildering variety of school uniforms on display, all attached to a veritable smorgsabord of young women, the least of which wasn't any less than damn pretty, and most were edging up the scale towards genuine beauty. The perks of good breeding and the wealth to pay for a lifestyle that kept you looking good. Jonathon felt a little glad his jacket was on Shirai's shoudlers, for he would have certainly started feeling a little hot under the collar by now otherwise. Not that he was staring or anything, but no matter where he cast his gaze, he saw things to delight any heterosexual male of middle or high school age.

They weren't the only ones headed against the tide of students towards the tram platform, and even distracted as he was, Jonathon's military training didn't allow him to totally lose situational awareness. It started with an indefinable feeling, a flutter at the back of his mind, a nudge on his subconscious. Easily dismissed, but Jonathon had trained long and hard, and suffered not a little in ACME's program, so that he WOULDN'T dismiss little feelings like that. It wasn't anything like an Esper power... that had been confirmed early on. No, this was simply the usual sixth sense for danger that soldiers tended to pick up after going into combat a few times. Something was wrong, and though he didn't know what it was, he stepped up his alertness all the same, slowly looking around, as if taking in the eye candy more overtly, a perfect excuse to check out the surroundings.

His eye settled on some of the other people headed for the tram platform, shifting around, bouncing from place to place around the plaza, and a chill crept into the pit of his stomach. Overtly there was nothing wrong with anyone he glanced at, though they were conspicuously older than the average for pedestrians in the area, looking to be in their 20's to 30's instead of middle teens. They were dressed casually, slacks or sweats or jeans or long skirts on some of the women, and sweaters, vests, light jackets and in some cases hoodies on the torso. None of them the same color or pattern, just regular clothes on regular people. But two things made him squint and listen to that fluttering at the bottom of his mind. The first thing was their posture, and the way they moved. They were trying to hide it, trying to slouch and slump and stride like normal pedestrians, but they weren't quite doing it. They were just a little too stiff. Too tense, too alert, too deliberate. It was a posture he was familiar with... it was how soldiers moving into ostensibly safe but definitely hostile territory walked. Especially if they were in civilian clothes, such as when off duty in a war zone.

The second thing was that they were moving in concert, with definite coordination between at least half a dozen different people he could see, and that was just with his quick glance. They were definitely converging on the tram station, like precision clockwork, their strides modulated so that they would arrive in staggered groups of two or three, few enough to look accidental, but enough to cover each other if something went wrong. They were, in short, deploying towards an objective, not simply ambling along to catch a tram. He glanced again, a little longer this time, but careful not to let any of them catch his surveillance all the same. He couldn't see any overt signs of weapons, none of the bulges or silhouttes under clothing that he'd been taught to look for, but several of the... he didn't want to call them targets, much less Tangos, the usual slang for hostile enemy elements in tactical military operations... but several of the "Suspects" were carrying backpacks and in a couple of cases duffelbags, like someone coming from a gym might have. And there could be all sorts of things in those.

 _Calm down._ Jonathon told himself sternly. This was Academy City after all, one of the safest cities on the entire planet, according to the hype. Confidential CIA reports available to ACME punctured that rosy bubble a little, but Academy City was still safer than most other cities of its comparative population density. Armed violence was generally not common except amongst members of the Skill-Out gangs, and even then they preferred simple physical force, blunt or sharp weapons, not firearms. Beatings, not murders. Getting any serious weapons beyond handguns would be a major chore, with the strictly controlled borders and import/exports here. At least, unless you were affiliated with the city government in some way, but in that case, there was nothing to worry about anyway. Not out in public in the midst of all these normal students anyway. There was no sense overreacting over a simple feeling.

He looked at Shirai again, but she was still engrossed in mastering her emotions, caught up in glaring at Touma's back as he and the Railgun continued their chatting-flirting-whatever it was they were doing, a few paces ahead. He looked down at JD, but his inert friend was still as slack as ever, staring ahead with glazed eyes, a thin trickle of drool edging down the corner of his mouth. If Lieutenant Nordstrom was still Piggybacking her senses to JD, she either hadn't twigged to what he had, or had dismissed it, because he wasn't getting an alert from his phone in his pocket. Then again, her perspective was different, almost literally over JD's shoulder, which might have put a good deal of the Suspects out of her line of sight. He didn't want to raise a false alarm, that would just make him, and by extension, ACME, look stupid and paranoid, and Major Findley would not thank him for giving that kind of impression.

On the other hand, he did have JD with him, and that was not a responsibility to take lightly. Not for a lot of different reasons, amongst the least of which was that JD was his friend, and helpless to defend himself while sedated. And if not sedated... well, that was a scenario that didn't bear thinking about. But JD was still a valuable asset of ACME, no matter which way you looked at it, and putting him into harms way was also not something Major Findley would thank him for. So it was a damned if he did, damned if he didn't type scenario. So Jonathon decided that the only good option was to keep going as if he hadn't seen anything, while remaining on high alert, ready to take some sort of action if he receieved any further confirmation of his suspicions. He tightened his grip on the push handles of JD's chair, and kept his head on a slow swivel, and tried not to dwell on the sinking feeling in his gut.


	9. The First Storm

His name was Ranulf Ragnarsson, and he was a Hetman of the Black Hand Society, what might be termed a Captain in a more formal military organization, several of which he'd been part of at one time or another, though never at the rank his cult esteemed him at. But nonetheless his grasp of small unit tactics was second to none amongst the Black Hand Society, and it was only his disdain for more strategic planning, and political infighting, that prevented him from rising any higher in the councils of the Cult hierarchy. Which was not to say he could not do it, simply that he disliked stepping out of his personal niche of comfort. He had found his place in the world long ago, and having fulfilled that ambition, had never cared for further advancement, devoting himself only towards greater enlightenment and capability in the service of the Great Master. He was a hard man, notably so even amongst a Cult that prided itself on ruthlessness and willingly committing even the cruelest of acts at the Great Master's whim, but he also strove to be fair to those beneath him, and supportive of those above him. Dissension and infighting would not serve the Great Master's design.

There was no chance of that today of course. Not after the Blessings of the night before, when the Great Master himself had deigned to call upon him, and the rest of the Black Hand Society, and in person no less! They had been honored beyond all limit, gifted with a peek behind the final Mask of the Macabre King, and the fiery passion of that sublime moment still burned within Ranulf's breast, and no doubt within the breast of every other member of the Black Hand Society. The mark of the Great Master's favor literally burned on the skin of his chest, overlaying the permanently inked black hand tattoo that was the favored mark of the Society. His skin still seared with the magnificent, transcendental agony of that brief moment of contact with the Great Master, when he had laid his bared hand on Ranulf's chest. Just for a second, just a brief moment in time, and yet it was still the defining moment of Ranulf's life, as it heralded his inevitable death. The Great Master was death incarnate after all, and all touched by him had their threads of fate severed forevermore.

This was not something to be feared or mourned. It was the ultimate liberation, the inevitability of death meant he was now free to act however he thought best, with no need to regard the consequences. He was already dead, thus he did not fear death, nor pain, nor failure, for no matter the outcome today, the Great Master's will would be served. He had fought all his life for survival, and now that he no longer needed to pay heed to that consideration, he gloried in the freedom of action he now carried. He tasted blood and warm metal on the back of his tongue, and swallowed thickly. The Hand of Death was hard upon him already. A good omen. He kept his stride steady, converging on the tram station with the other members of his strike team. Blond, pale skinned Carol. Darker skinned, bald pated James. Swarthy and stocky Urtzi, who had been doubly blessed with contingent magic by the Master. Lanky and pink chapped Thomas. Sunburnt and red bearded Ranulf. Wendy, Fredrick, Abu, Charles... they were all an eclectic mix of races and genders and nationalities, united from across the globe by their nihilism and their loyalty to the Society, and the Great Master.

He converged with James and Carol, and headed through the discreet scanner booths that served as combination ticket counters and security screens for the tram stations. You swiped a card, either a cash card to pay for fare, or a student ID for a free ride, depending on the time of day, and then walked on, while an subtle X ray scanner built into the sides of the entry booth scanned for any contraband items, such as weapons or explosives. Not that many of the students here in this freakish city needed guns or bombs to cause enormous damage if they wished to, so Ranulf wasn't entirely sure why the security system existed in the first place. It was of no real matter though, as something as simple as a mere X-ray would never be sufficient to peer through the artifice of the Great Master, which warded and enhanced their bags and packs. With the aegis of the Lord's Touch upon his body, it was doubtful the machines would pick up anything beyond a bright glow in the vague shape of a human outline anyway.

Certainly, no alarms sounded as his fire team passed through the scanners and began to ascend the ramp towards the tram platform, moving against the thinning trickle of schoolgirls debarking from the latest tram. Judging the number of potential hostages, Ranulf slowed his pace, his team and the other teams following his lead. They would let this tram pass, and grab the next one while it was still unloading. The idea was to grab enough hostages to get the attention the Great Master desired, but not so many as to make managing them difficult or confusing for his forces. He was of course free to kill as many as needed in order to maintain control over them, but the purpose of this sacrificial offering was not massacre, but instead terror. A somewhat subtle distinction at times, but in this case, it required that there be plenty of survivors. Also, causing too many casualties too soon would only result in the city authorities rushing in to contain the incident before it got the media attention that was required.

The tram that had just emptied itself of its human cargo began smoothly moving away along its extended monorail, just as Ranulf and his team reached the embarking/debarking platform. The other teams came up behind them, everyone maintaining the illusion that there was nothing related about them, standing in groups of three and four spread out along the platform, making meaningless small talk. The mix of ages, nationalities and genders would throw off passive surveillance, which tended to key in on groups of young men of all the same nationality, in Ranulf's experience. There was a little bit of glancing aside between the groups, momentary eye contact as everyone confirmed the presence of their allies and prepared to make their move in concert. Everything was prepared. Everything was ready. Ranulf noted the arrival of several students walking in a group on the platform behind his forces, but aside from the oddly out of place cosplay of one as an American soldier... strange cosplay being one of the things they had been warned about potentially encountering in Academy City... there was nothing particularly threatening about them. Especially as they were escorting a clearly handicapped man in a wheelchair. Just more potential hostages. The handicapped one would play especially well on the media reports, Ranulf imagined.

Everything was going completely according to plan, the next tram already visible in the near distance, only a minute or two from arrival, when the unexpected occured. One of the students standing on the platform, the one with spiky black hair who seemed to be the focus of both female students in his party for whatever reason, took his phone out of his pocket to check something. A perfectly innocuous action. However, the phone slipped out of his fingers and fell onto the platform, a simple accident, and the boy leaned over to pick it up, but somehow contrived to lose his balance in the process, sending him toppling forward, into the back of Urtzi, standing a few feet in front of him. Urtzi was clad in a black and white track suit and holding a gym bag, his cover being that of someone returning from some early morning exercise. Inside the gym bag, which was a dimensionally warped space, was contained several automatic rifles, a heavy man portable machinegun, grenades, RPG launcher, body armor and other tactical gear for Urtzi's team, all fitting into a bag little bigger than a woman's purse through the wonders of magic. The boy managed to catch himself, only lightly rocking the sturdy Urtzi, who spun quickly nonetheless, expecting some sort of attack, only to see it was a mere accident. Just a mere accident... until in the process of regaining his balance, the boy's right hand brushed against Urtzi's bag.

The sound of glass shattering filled the air, shortly before the sound of ripping cloth and clattering plastic and metal as the magic that warped Urtzi's bag was suddenly banished, causing all the weapons inside to take up their full normal volume once more, ripping through the bag and falling in a disorganized pile onto the ground. There was a long, horrified moment of silence, as everyone on the platform struggled to take in what had occured and what it meant. And then everyone on the platform exploded into action! Urtzi lashed out with both hands, grabbing and shoving the black haired boy backwards, as Urtzi and his team dropped to their knees, grabbing for the disorganized pile of weapons spilling out around their feet. Ranulf tore fingernails off his fingers in his haste at opening the zippers on his own magic bag, plunging his hand inside with James and Carol crowding around for their own turn, as he pulled out a short barreled, high magazine capacity SMG and spun to point it at the interfering students. This was unexpected, but they had planned for the off chance their attack would be disrupted before the target tram could be taken over... it just meant things were going to get a lot bloodier...

Ranulf squeezed the trigger of his weapon, preparing to hose down the student party behind his soldiers with a stream of low caliber lead death, but before the gun could fire, metal rods appeared out of nowhere, impaling the barrel and action of the SMG, locking it up and preventing it from firing. Ranulf blinked in shock, even as his body acted on ingrained reflexes, dropping the now useless SMG and dropping to his knees, rolling back and away as Carol and James took out assault rifles and a grenade launcher respectively from the bag, clearing their lines of fire. Gunshots rang out, but not from his soldiers, as the student Ranulf had thought was a cosplayer produced a 9mm Beretta from behind his back and opened up with the sort of wild, unaimed cover fire that paradoxically only a trained soldier could really pull off, as he shoved his wheelchair bound companion back down the ramp a bit while shooting over his shoulder. It took skill to get enough rounds in the right general direction of the enemy to make them duck while moving like that, rather than firing into the air or endangering allies. James grunted in pain, struck several times and falling backward, but there was little blood, so the bullets must have been non-lethal rounds.

Carol opened up with her rifle, the chattering ripsaw shriek of fully automatic gunfire echoing around the plaza, raising a chorus of screams and shouting from the students and other civilians below. Despite being at point blank range, none of Carol's shots struck the students on the platform, an entire magazine going wild, deflecting up into the sky harmlessly as Carol's rifle was then unceremoniously pulled from her grasp by an invisible force, breaking her fingers via the trigger guard as she was yanked off her feet before the weapon flew loose. Lightning crackled, and Thomas was blown backwards, his body convulsing and spasming as electricity crackled around his body, connecting him with the outflung hand of one of the girl students, who stood with brown eyes blazing with determination and fury at the top of the ramp! She was the center of a personal lightning storm, sparks scattering from her hair and clothes as she gestured almost contemptuously and tore the weapons from the hands of Abu and Charles with more of whatever invisible force she controlled, before blasting them to the ground with a literal wave of electric force!

Urtzi came up with a frag grenade in either hand from the pile of weapons at his feet, flicking the spoons free of the explosives with both thumbs as he began to throw them at his feet, where their detonation would sweep the surrounding five meters free of life. He stumbled as a kick from the spiky haired boy crashed into his knee, but still managed to accomplish his goal, dropping both pineapple shaped grenades almost on top of the spiky haired boy, who clearly knew what they were judging by the horrified look on his face. But then a small girl with tawny hair and pigtails appeared literally out of nowhere and grabbed both grenades before they could roll away from where Urtzi had dropped them, and as soon as she touched the grenades they disappeared, somehow transported dozens of meters into the air, where they exploded with great force but no real effect other than causing more screams and panic from the plaza below. The pigtailed girl then vanished again, before re-appearing on top of James, stamping both feet into his face and teleporting another couple metal rods into the workings of his grenade launcher, disabling it just like Ranulf's SMG had been!

But all was not lost, his entire force reacting as trained, with about half the fireteams orienting on the direct threat, even though most of them were now down and temporarily out of the fight, though none had yet died or taken mortal wounds. The other half of his teams continued to pretend to be civilians, screaming and fleeing to the ends of the platform, before more covertly accessing their weapons once the distraction force engaged with the enemy. There was still a mission to accomplish after all, even as it was all going straight to hell... and not in the good way they all dreamed of. Ranulf acquired a pistol from his bag, staying low and pretending to be wounded as he drew a bead on the electric girl while hunched over on the ground, but somehow she noticed, dodging backwards just ahead of the three round burst he would have put through the side of her skull. Electricity smashed into him, literally being struck down by lightning, and Ranulf screamed involuntarily as his body singed and smoked, playing up the pain and rolling around in a heap on the ground, even allowing the pistol to slip free of his grasp and skitter away, pretending to be downed as he searched in his bag beneath him for something else to use. It hurt as bad as anything he'd suffered in his life, but buoyed by his fanatical determination, it wasn't a strong enough blow to incapacitate him entirely!

He watched Urtzi engage the spiky haired boy in a brief flurry of fisticuffs, Urtzi throwing blows with the sides of his hands and elbows, chopping strikes aiming to break the collarbone and neck of his foe, but the boy dodged them with the jerky if effective motions of an experienced brawler. The boy countered with a right handed uppercut directly to Urtzi's jaw that caused tooth chips to fly and blood to spurt as Urtzi staggered backwards, shaking his head to clear it! The boy tackled Urtzi, only to be thrown off and nearly stomped on before he could roll away. Still, he was down, and in a fight like this, that was a death sentence! Urtzi kicked the boy in the hip, knocking him onto his back and then prepared to drop onto him with knees and fists to beat him into a pulp, before more gunfire broke out and Urtzi staggered backwards, blood splattering from holes punched into his shoulder and chest as the US soldier opened fire with his handgun once again, this time with normal ammunition, putting a three round burst right where he was trained to, in the triangle formed by the upper chest and neck, where all sorts of major organs and blood vessels were located to ensure a quick kill. Urtzi collapsed and blood began to puddle out around him.

Strangely, the black haired boy seemed more traumatized and outraged by Urtzi's slaying than any of Urtzi's comrades, Ranulf included. Of course they all knew that they would die here today, but even if that were not the case, a soldier being killed during the course of a mission, while never desirable, was also something that sometimes could not be avoided. Mourning comrades was best left for after the battle was won. But then again, children often had a different and much less realistic view of the world and its harsh truths. The black haired boy started to scream at the American soldier, but his words were drowned out by the enormous basso-thumping of the heavy PKM 12.7mm machinegun that Frederick, the big German former mercenary, had managed to extract from his team's bag of holding, and then gotten situated with assistance of one of the others to feed his ammunition belt as he opened up on the oncoming tram indiscriminantly. Huge, high powered bullets, designed for breaking unarmored vehicles and penetrating any normal body armor known to man, began tearing through the tram's first car, blowing through glass, metal, seats and anything else that might be in their way... including students, judging by the way blossoms of wet redness exploded across the upper windows of the tram.

Frederick had barely gotten his first enfilading burst started when he was struck from behind by a massive bolt of lightning which ignited his clothes and blew him physically off the side of the platform, unconscious body ragdolling through the air to land hard on the bricks of the plaza below. Screaming with purest fury, enough to make her previous anger seem nothing more than a bit of petulant pouting, the electric Esper girl unleashed a torrent of lightning strikes nearly indiscriminantly, bombarding Ranulf's remaining forces with strike after strike, blasting them off their feet and even off the platform as the platform itself was chipped and cratered and burnt by her electric wrath. It was an elemental outpouring of seemingly unrestrained destructive force, and Ranulf's eyes widened in both amazing and a little trepidation. He had heard, of course, of the amazing powers of Academy City's Espers. But this was beyond his wildest imaginings, equal to any demonstration of force he had yet seen from the Great Master's magical servitors in the past!

The sound of glass shattering drew Ranulf's eye, to where the black, spiky haired boy was down on one knee with his right hand raised, bolts of lightning earthing into him from the stream pouring from his companion's outflung arms, yet somehow the lightning did not seem to affect him in the slightest. The arcs of current and voltage simply faded and unraveled when contacting his hands, leaving him unmarked as he regained his feet, jaw clenched and eyes filled with a form of determination and focus that made even a fanatic like Ranulf swallow heavily for a moment. Reaching out his hand, the boy gently touched the sparking Esper on her shoulder, cutting off her lightning torrent like a switch had been thrown! She turned to him, eyes still alight with her fury even if the rest of her was not, before something in his expression seemed to restore a measue of sanity to the girl. Ranulf lay on the ground, playing dead for the moment, as he glanced around the platform in dismay. His entire mission team had been disabled or slain in a matter of seconds, taken down by a handful of teenagers! One of which seemed to be a soldier, but the others, Espers or not... just what the hell kind of City was this place?

They should have been frozen in shock, in terror, in confusion! Ducking and running, screaming and hiding, that was how civilians responded to sudden and shocking violence, in Ranulf's experience. Many people could be brave either before or after the fact, talking tough about how they would or would have reacted in violent situations, but when it came down to it, there was a not insubstantial fraction of even trained soldiers who simply locked up and froze when bullets started to fly and blood started to flow. It was an instinctive reaction, hard wired into the brain... only the most extensive training or the harshest of experiences could free a person from such instincts of self preservation entirely. But these people, these Esper kids, they had responded with the sort of snappy precision that had caught even Ranulf and his elite Black Hands on the back foot! There had been little coordination between the Espers, yet they had somehow managed to not get in each others way, which was a formidable feat in and of itself! And they had taken down his whole team, with only one confirmed mortal casualty, and no serious injuries suffered themselves!

But though outraged and stunned, Ranulf did not despair. The Master had planned even for such a contigency as this utter travesty of a failure. It wasn't supposed to be this way, not this soon, not with the media not even arrived yet, but it was too late to do anything about it. The massive blood puddle around Urtzi suddenly rippled, as his nearly bloodless body twitched as the Master's pre-prepared spell activation conditions were met. Ranulf did not understand magic, especially not the Master's magic, but he knew enough to accept it as real, as real as any other weapon in the world, and far more versatile and deadly than most. All the moreso in this City of Science, where it should be completely unexpected! The Espers seemed to be coming down from their combat highs, the inevitable shock of life or death combat setting in now that the danger seemed to be past, the spiky haired boy and the electric girl standing side by side, his hand still on her shoulder, before the boy turned towards the soon to arrive and slightly shot up tram, clearly intending to start giving what aid he could to the injured aboard it. The girl meanwhile took out her phone, probably calling the city authorities.

The tawny haired girl with the pigtails was nowhere to be seen, though since she seemed able to appear and disappear and perhaps even teleport around at will, that wasn't saying much. The US soldier with the handgun was moving to help the spikey haired boy with first aid, though he still held his gun in one hand, as he checked Ranulf's fallen comrades to ensure they truly were down and out. Ranulf tensed, hand still shoved deep inside his bag of holding, searching for the proper weapon, hoping he would reach a suitable one before the soldier checked him. Dark fortune was with him however, as Urtzi's corpse twitched again, harder this time, the Master's re-animation spell finally sinking in and flooding Urtzi with negative energy, the energy of death. This drew the attention of the soldier, and also the electric girl, who sent another blast of electricity snapping from her fingers into Urtzi... or what had once been Urtzi to be more precise. The pool of blood smoked, filling the air with the thick scent of burning meat, but Urtzi did not convulse nor slump down unconscious... instead his body pounced upright, skin bloodlessly pale, eyes full of darkness, mouth distended and filled with jagged fangs ripping up through ragged gums, his fignernails twisting into hooked claws that seemed to fester the air around them.

Urtzi's entire front was soaked in his life's blood, having poured out through the gunshot wounds in his upper chest. There was no way he could be alive, much less standing up like that. That was the beauty of magic though. What was impossible did not matter. And he wasn't alive, for all that. Re-animated did not mean brought back to life... from what little Ranulf understood, actual resurrection magic was considerably more difficult to perform even for someone like the Great Master. Urtzi had become a Wight, a form of semi-intelligent undead monster, with greatly enhanced strength and durability, as well as the ability to paralyze a living being simply by touching them, while also communicating a variety of unpleasant filth based diseases through bites or claw wounds. They were ravenous man eaters who knew not friend from foe, only a powerful necromancer or even more powerful undead could hope to command or control them. But control was not needed here, only casualties, blood and gore and horror and terror... and an uncontrolled Wight was more than capable of providing that! He'd seen Wights tear through entire squads of infantrymen on the battlefield, ignoring all wounds until they were literally blown to shreds, slaying all the while!

Urtzi the Wight hurled himself at the electric Esper girl, her recent attack making her the top of his threat list, moving with blurring speed, claws outstretched to rend and tear, mouth distended with the urge to bite, to feast on warm flesh and hot blood. To her credit, the girl still did not scream and cower like any normal person should have, her face going pale with her horror and shock though, as she stumbled backwards, unleashing shock after shock on Urtzi, pummeling him with electricity, but undead simply weren't afected by pain and muscle spasms the same way living bodies or even normal corpses were. Smoke rose from Urtzi's flesh, but he did not stop, did not stagger, did not slow, the tip of one claw leaving a small scratch on the girl's neck as she hurled herself backwards with the aid of some invisible force. But it was too late. The touch of a Wight was not dependent on the fullness of contact, even the merest graze spread paralysis through all but the most strong willed and tough. The electric girl's body went stiff, causing her to topple backwards awkwardly, landing hard on her back, unable even to scream in pain as her body locked up like she had contracted rigor mortis, only her autonomic functions unaffected. Wights wanted to devour their prey alive after all.

Crouching above the now helpless girl, who was still somehow crackling with electricity despite her state of paralysis, ignoring the sparking currents as they played across his flesh leaving burn scars behind, Urtzi slavered, reaching down to grab the girl, eagerly anticipating biting into the tender flesh and succulent young fat, to gnaw on the bones and crack them for the juicy marrow within. Gunshots rang out before Urtzi could have his snack though, as the US soldier opened up with his handgun, a flurry of rounds at near point blank range, smashing into Urtzi's shoulder and side and chest, punching out through his back in messy, gory craters that failed to bleed even a little bit. Jerking under the foot pounds of force imaprted by the bullet hits, Urtzi paused... not so much hurt as annoyed. It would take more than 9mm parabellum rounds from a handgun to seriously slow down a Wight. Even head shots with such a weapon might not be enough to drop the undead, certainly not before it bore down on whoever was shooting it and rended them apart. This soldier didn't seem that confident in his aim with the Esper girl so close though, simply emptying the rest of his clip into Urtzi's torso.

Snarling at the US soldier as his gun clicked empty, magazine depleted, Urtzi nonetheless decided to ignore the annoying soldier, who was incapable of causing him much harm, while the electric girl might be able to cook him like a microwave meal if he did not deal with her first. Besides, the flesh of a young female was by far the most delicious of treats. Turning back to the sparking girl lying at his feet, Urtzi once more began to lean down to feed, ignoring the stamp of running feet as the spikey haired boy suddenly came sprinting back down the platform, right arm cocked back as he threw himself at the Wight, screaming with incoherent anger. Ranulf had no idea what the fool was hoping to accomplish... as soon as he touched Urtzi he would be paralyzed after all... the effect worked regardless of whether the Wight was touching or being touched. His valiant charge would only put him next on the menu, allowing him front row seats to listen and watch as the girl was eaten alive while he was frozen and helpless to stop it.

That was what should have happened anyway. Instead, the boy's right fist plowed right into Urtzi's cheek, snapping off a half dozen of his fangs, as a sound like shattering glass rang out yet again, black flames sprouting from Urtzi's skin where the boy's fist had touched him, the Wight knocked sprawling off his chosen victim, releasing a weird, ululuating cry that chilled Ranulf to the marrow. If he did not know better, he almost might have sworn that Urtzi, the udnead Wight, had just screamed in agony after being punched by the spikey haired boy! But surely that was impossible. Even so, he felt a shred of doubt as he watched the black flames burn on Urtzi's face, leaving behind a gaping hole in the Wight's jaw, flesh and muscle and bone alike simply dissolving into dust under the caress of the black flames of what must have been unleashed negative energy. Snarling brokenly, Urtzi scrambled upright, hunched over on all fours like a beast before hurling himself, claws outstretched, towards the boy who had actually harmed him so. The boy met the charge head on, fist cocked back once more, before ducking with almost preternatural precision under Urtzi's scything claws and uppercutting the Wight right in his ruined jaw!

Urtzi's head simply exploded, a torrent of those black flames of negativity gushing from the stump of Urtzi's neck as the Wight collapsed backwards, body immediately beginning to shrivel up and turn to dust as the magic of the re-animation spell burned itself out, denying the enemy any evidence beyond a pile of smoldering ashes. The boy with the impossible hand immediately turned to the electric girl, kneeling at her side and touching her with his hand, causing another glass shattering sound as he somehow undid the Wight's curse of paralysis with but a touch. This was the chance that Ranulf had been waiting for however! With the US soldier seemingly out of ammo, and the electric esper down and distracted, and the spikey haired boy at her side, and the tawny haired girl apparently gone, that left one target open... the handicapped man in the wheelchair! Ranulf scrambled to his feet and hurled himself towards the wheelchair, hand sliding out of his bag of holding clutching an entire satchel charge, packed with enough C4 to render the entire tram station to a pile of smoking rubble!

With his finger on the detonator, he could still create enough of a hostage situation to draw at least some media attention! Wait until the authorities arrived, until the triage began, then blow the entire area to smithereens! At least that would be some redemption, some consolation after failing the Great Master so totally like this! The US soldier swore, seeing what his target was, and tried to tackle him, but Ranulf was moving too quickly, too focused to be diverted from his goal... even another stinging jolt of electricity from the electric girl was not enough to bring him down, though arcs of current danced across his teeth, making him grind them so hard tooth chips flew. But she could not hit him with the full force of her power or she would have detonated the satchel charge! He was home free, reaching the wheelchair, staggering against it, reaching one arm around to grab the helpless man around the neck while the other arm held the satchel charge in front of both of them. "Nobody mo-NGAAAAAAAH!" Ranulf started to scream his commands, but the moment his hand touched the inert man's bare flesh on his neck, an entire abyss of the purest terror imaginable rose up inside him and washed him away, so that instead of commands, he could only scream. Scream and scream and scream until his mouth bled, until his lungs seized up, until he fell over backwards unconscious... and even then, he continued to scream...

xxxx

 **At a Certain Hospital, 1 hour later**

"Are you ok?" Misaka looked up to see Touma standing next to where she was sitting in one of the chairs spaced in groups along the hallway. He had a concerned look on his face, that at any other time probably would have caused her to spark up as her face imitated a cherry. Not that she needed him to worry about her or anything, but it was nice, every now and then, to have someone express concern for her so openly. She had a lot of friends who would worry for her of course, but even Saten, Uiharu and Kuroko would generally express their concern in more subtle ways, rather than simply asking "are you ok?". Three simple words, but they weren't words a level 5 often heard directed at her so baldly. She was level 5 after all... she must be ok, by nature, right? If only.

At the moment though, she felt drained, both emotionally and electrically. She could probably call up her power if she really needed it, and it wasn't like she'd really strained her reserves in that short if intense fight, but all the same she felt simply drained, it taking all she had simply to sit there in her chair and not sink into a deep funk. People had died after all. Right there in front of her. While she was too slow to stop it. Two students in the oncoming tram had received multiple heavy caliber gunshot wounds to the torso and head, and had been dead on arrival at the hospital. Even Heaven Canceller could not repair that kind of damage. Not after that much elapsed time anyway. Heaven Canceller was still busy with surgery on several of the most seriously wounded students who had been hit by shrapnel and tumbling bullets in the tram. Two students had died, just like that... and she hadn't stopped it. She should have. She should have been faster. Quicker on the uptake. Quicker on the trigger, once giant guns started appearing out of handbags in a way she still couldn't figure out. Zap first, ask questions later, that was what she was supposed to be all about, right?

"I don't... think I am..." Misaka finally managed to reply, swallowing heavily in the middle of her statement. Her first urge was of course to say that she was fine. To brush off his concern, to put up the tough level 5 act that she normally displayed when confronted with scary and depressing things. But ever since the Level 6 Shift travesty, when Touma had seen her at her absolute lowest ebb, at the point when deliberate and pointless suicide was literally the best thing she could think of to do at all, when he had seen her like that, and still managed to put a smile on her face again... she didn't think she could lie to him. Not about something like this anyway. If she couldn't confide in him after all, who could she confide in? "I should... I should have been able to save them. I should have reacted faster. But it all happened so fast... so unexpectedly... I wasn't ready. I mean, we were just walking, just going to take the tram... and then without any warning, they all had guns and explosives and..." Misaka paused and touched her cheek, where a patch of medical tape was placed across the graze she'd gotten. "... and there was that THING... and... and I think I froze up. I must have panicked. I couldn't move. No matter what I tried, even taking direct control of my muscles via electric impulse, I couldn't move... and people died..." She tried really hard not to sob, but wasn't sure she managed it.

"A part of me wants to tell you that it's all going to be ok." Touma replied, sighing heavily as he took a seat next to her, bumping her with his shoulder in the process. Again, normally something that would have her face in flames and probably lead to attempted electroshock therapy for him on her part. But right now, in the wake of that horror, his mere presence was reassuring. And she was too drained to freak out about his proximity. Or even consider why she normally did freak out because of his proximity. "But I don't want to lie to you, Misaka. I don't feel ok either. I should have been faster, more on the ball. As soon as I destroyed that magic bag, I should have called on you to nuke the platform just to be sure. But I tried to be the hero by myself again. And people died because of that. Because I wasn't willing to call on all the power available when I should have..."

"You CANNOT be serious right now!" Misaka snapped incredulously, turning to glare at him and sparking a little. "You're seriously trying to beat YOURSELF up for not stopping them? I hate to say it like this, given everything I've seen you do, but I'M the level 5 here, you know!? I've seen you pull off things I literally considered impossible until I saw you do them. But from what I understand, your hand thingy doesn't really work against non-Esper stuff. Seriously? You're gonna try and take the blame for not stopping a dozen or more terrorists with guns and grenades and rocket launchers with your BARE HANDS alone?"

"No, I'm beating myself up because I did try to use my bare hands alone, when I had a Railgun right there at my side. I should have made the connection between the one magic bag and all the other bags on the platform, and told you to shock everyone senseless and sort out the good from the bad later... you're good at that."

"Shut up." Misaka felt a bit more normal, as a flush rose up on her face, despite thinking herself about that tendency of hers not minutes earlier. "You're not responsible for directing me in combat! I repeat, I am the level 5 here. I know that doesn't mean much to you, and really, I appreciate that a lot most of the time. But all the same, I'm the one who had the power we needed to use, and I should have used it, but I was too slow, too awkward, too reserved. I guess I was just in too much of a good mood because..." Misaka trailed off as she realized exactly why she had been in such a good mood right until the fighting started. No. No she didn't think she wanted to tell him why, come to think of it. Certainly not NOW. He'd find some way see it as if he was distracting her which caused the problems. Which while technically true, was not the conclusion she would accept or allow him to accept. "... well I was in a pretty good mood, so I was slower on my shock everything trigger than I should have been. I shouldn't need you to tell me to do that."

"I'm the one with the most experience in those kinds of fights though." Touma argued with a tired sigh.

"I assure you, I have zapped more thugs and ne'er-do-wells unconscious in this city than you have ever even met. Not to mention the other fights I've had against more serious opponents." Misaka retorted with a disdainful snort.

"I don't think you're taking my luck into account, Misaka. Bad things happen to me and around me, pretty much every day, usually multiple times per day. I can't even remember a day when I haven't been chased by a pack of delinquents at least once for some reason or other. As for serious fights... man, I can't even TELL you about some of the stuff I've had to deal with." Touma sighed again, unable to even muster up his usual bemoaning of his luck. He could not forget though that it was his bad luck in dropping his phone and losing his balance that had started the fight in the first place. Probably a good thing, maybe, but maybe they were only going to take hostages instead... there could have been time to negotiate, to stage some sort of more planned rescue... and he'd ruined that. This was exactly the sort of thing he was most afraid of, and why he could not allow himself to get closer to Misaka than he currently was. Exposing her to this even once made him feel like a monster, he couldn't bear doing it constantly.

"Wait just one second!" Misaka suddenly cried, seizing him hard by the arm. "What the hell are you talking about, magic bags?"

"Huh? I don't know what you mean..." Touma suddenly felt like the floor had dropped out from under his feet. How careless could he get, he was just so worn down by the attack and aftermath his mouth had run away with him!?

"You specifically said MAGIC BAGS. Twice." Misaka glared at him, keeping her grip on his arm. He looked like he was ready to up and flee, and she wasn't about to let that happen. "I've been wracking my brain, trying to figure out how they fit all those guns and explosives into those tiny little bags! There's no Esper power I know of that could possibly do that... and they weren't even Espers! Hell, I should have been able to feel all that metal and electronics in those bags by its magnetic and electrical signatures... but there was NOTHING! It was like the interior of those bags was its own little world somehow! And then when you touched that bag, your hand did its weird thingy and suddenly I could feel all the guns as they came out of nowhere! You know something, damn it! Spill!"

"No... I don't know what happened... those bags sure were special, eh? Almost like they were magic or something, that's what I meant... you know, any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic and all..." Touma attempted to hedge, but he was not prepared for Misaka's counterattack.

"Please... don't lie to me. Not now..." Misaka pleaded with him, her eyes large and expressive and piercing and just a little watery with the beginnings of tears, as she held onto his arm tightly.

"... Fine. I know things. But I can't tell you about them." Touma forced himself to look away from her, lest his will be sapped. "I'm serious. It's too dangerous for you to get invovled in things like that. I won't allow it."

"Allow it!?" Misaka's voice changed from plaintative to furious in a heartbeat. "Since when are YOU in charge of ALLOWING what I can and can not be involved in!? Who do you think you are!? I'll admit, yeah, you saved me that one time. Actually a couple times. You did things I could never do. You stopped this whole damn city right in its tracks when all I could do was try to die heroically. I am the third ranked level 5 Esper in this City, but there are problems I cannot solve by myself. I get that. Really, I won't forget that any time soon, I promise! But I do NOT recall signing over the right to decide what is TOO DANGEROUS for me to get involved in... not to this city, not to my friends, not even to you!" Sparks cascaded from her hair, but despite the visible threat display, Touma did not seem particularly moved.

"Any other thing, I'd let you bully me about." Touma sucked in a breath through his teeth before fixing her with one of his very rare serious stares. "But this is just NOT happening. I'm not letting you get involved in that side of things. End of story. Not any more than you already have been. Look, Misaka. I know you're strong. In most respects, you're so much stronger than me that it's not even funny. Against pretty much any threat this city throws at you, you can take care of yourself. I have absolute faith in that, I promise. But there are things out there that you are completely helpless against, things which all of your powers are useless against, things which you would never even be able to conceive of, much less see coming to defend against. I can't... I just can't... let you get involved in things like that. I can't... protect you... if you do..."

"I'm not asking you to protect me!" Misaka snapped angrily, even as she did quail a bit under the intensity of his stare. A fully serious Touma was something she had been confronted with only a couple times in her life... and every time she had, she'd backed down, folded and retreated in short order. But she wasn't going to do that this time. She was just too mad. Yes, she did enjoy it when he protected her... it was a novel experience for a level 5, being protected just like any ordinary girl. It made her blush, it made her heart pound, it made her think strange thoughts that sent her flailing uncontrollably through the city, even as it was pleasant. But she had never, not even once as far as she knew, ASKED him to protect her. He'd butted in on his own power, running roughshod over all her plans each time he'd come to her rescue. Yes, it all worked out for the best, she acknowledged that. But she had never RELIED on him coming to save her, and she hoped she never would, hoped she would never again reach a point where she brokenly begged the world in tears for someone, anyone to come and save her, without expecting it to actually happen.

"Again, I'm not ASKING you to protect me. I can't stop you from hurling yourself headlong into situations you don't understand and have no reasonable expectation of surviving, like you always do... but I won't ASK you to do that, especially not to protect me. I can take care of myself. And if I can't, then I will be the judge of when I ask for help, not you." Misaka's voice trembled with the seriousness of her emotion. "If you WANT to protect me so much, then TELL me about these threats, these dangers. If I can't see them coming, TELL ME about them. I can learn. I promise you, I am very good at learning. Fore-warned is fore-armed. Knowledge is power... if you're worried about me not being strong enough, then give me the knowledge I need to get stronger!" She leaned up close to him, boring her gaze into his own, closer than she ever would have dared get in a normal mood, her willpower crashing against his.

"And I'm telling you no. Shock me if you want. Hit me, kick me, throw me down the stairs, whatever. I'm not telling you. I know you're not asking for my protection... I'm giving it to you anyway, whether you want it or not. I'm selfish like that, sorry. I'm not asking you to like it. I know you don't. I probably would react the same way as you if our positions were reversed. But here's the thing. I'm pretty sure YOU would react the same way as I am also, if our positions were reversed. And even if I wanted to tell you, which I will admit, I wish I could... I can't. One, its not my secret to reveal, and there would be BIG consequences if this secret got out. I'm talking city wide, maybe world wide, ok? I'm already a target because of my hand, if I go around getting uninvolved people involved, I'm going to find myself at the wrong end of a witch hunt in no time flat, and I really don't need that shit. Two, I don't even know what to tell you. Math, physics, history, all that stuff, I get that stuff. Esper stuff? This other stuff? I can't make heads or tails of it. That's one reason fewer people care that I know stuff... I can't use what I know. Third reason, even if I could teach you the stuff I know, it would KILL YOU. Literally. I don't know why, but Espers and this other stuff... they do not mix. I'm talking Matter to Anti-Matter level reactions here."

Touma met Misaka glare for glare. Normally his feelings for the girl would cause him to cave, to bend and give her what she wanted. Being bullied by Mikoto Misaka, well, there were worse ways to spend a day. But this was precisely because of his feelings for her, even if he would never mention them to her, could not mention them to her, not even indirectly. He couldn't even tell her reason four, that if she became involved, even platonically, she would become a target used to get to him, and he simply could not stand that idea. Even if preventing that from happening led to her disliking him, feeling wronged by him. He tried not to think about it, but just seeing her lying there, helpless and paralyzed underneath the claws of that undead-thing, had nearly caused his heart to explode. All her power, all her strength, and it wasn't going to save her against a moving corpse like that... she just didn't have the right frame of reference to act properly with. Neither did he most of the time, but he at least had Imagine Breaker, the ultimate trump card against all supernatural effects. Touma pulled his arm out of her grasp, but kept his hands defiantly in his pockets, knowing that passive aggressiveness was the only strategy that really got through to Misaka when she was like this.

"Misaka... I won't lie to you. But I can't tell you either..." He could not stop himself from reaching up with his left hand to brush the bandage on her face with his thumb. She flinched backwards, but not with a blush this time, rather a look of fury and perhaps even hurt and a sense of betrayal. It stabbed him right in the feels to see that expression on her face, and know unequivocally that it was his fault. He'd pegged it right after all. This was a selfish decision. The most selfish decision he'd ever made, as far as he was aware. He let his hand slowly drop to his side again. "I'm sorry, but that's the way it is."

"Well then, I guess there's not much more to say, is there?" Misaka replied icily, turning away from him. She began to storm off down the hall, before pausing a moment. "Thanks for saving my life again today. Don't do it again..." She snarled, without turning around, then finished walking away, leaving him staring after her, feeling simultaneously relieved and crushed. Oh, such terrible, terrible misfortune...

xxxx

 **Across the City, at the ACME hotel, same time**

"Let's go over this one more time, from the top of the incident." Major Adelaide Findley said, in tones that brooked no complaint nor opposition. Her military training had hammered into her time and time again the importance of retrospection, of going over in the most minute detail every incident that occured, during training or out of it. Picking through details with a fine toothed comb, turning the overview of the situation this way and that, flipping things around, looking inside and outside the box, trying to understand every moment from every angle as they occured, looking at the small picture and the big picture. That was the only way to ensure that everything possible was learned, any mistakes not for future correction, and any potential clues as to the motives and future intentions of the enemy were discovered. There was no real secret to this, no special process that ACME was privy to that allowed them to do it, it was just a matter of patience and repetition... the increased brainpower most Espers had made it a little easier, but at the end of the day, an After Action Review was the same whether it was Espers or National Guard Reserve forces doing it.

She sat on the couch of her suite, leaning over the coffee table, upon which was spread dozens of pieces of paper, most filled with printed text, some with blurry pictures from various angles, and the fewest with her own hand written notes and memos on them. The first set were the official initial reports on the incident, set to them by Anti-Skill. The second set were whatever images Wiley had been able to pull off the local surveillance networks before getting kicked off by some sort of ferocious active anti-hacking program, coupled with a couple of grainy satellite shots from secret NSA satellites in orbit over the city. Those were mostly useless of course... there was something about Academy City which screwed with orbital photography, some sort of as yet poorly understood jamming or defraction field that screwed up the focus of the cameras so that they gave out little better than splotches of color which took multiple levels of computer enhancing to even become grainy, and were mostly conjecture at that.

Across from her stood, standing at parade rest with their arms folded at the small of their backs, Sergeant Sherman and Lieutenant Nordstrom, both of them in casual garrison utility uniform, but both sweating under the hour long debriefing process all the same. Being the focus of a level 5's attention for so long was wearying to the mind and emotions, especially when there were so many unanswered questions! Adelaide figured that they both probably wanted little more than to go back to their own rooms to collapse on their beds to get some rest, and in truth she felt that they deserved to, especially the Sergeant, who had actually been in combat after all, and had performed admirably enough, especially for a level 0, by all accounts. The Lieutenant, ghosting along on JD's shoulder through her power, had witnessed the first part of the incident, but then something had happened, they weren't sure what, that had disrupted her power, and left her with nothing to do but sound the alarm. Combat situations being as fluid and faced paced as they were in the modern era, by the time Adelaide had heard and reached the area, even with her ability of supersonic flight, it was all over but the cleanup.

"Tell me again, Sergeant. What first clued you in to the presence of hostile forces?" Adelaide asked curtly. Of course they had not expected Academy City to be safe... only fools and the public bought that bunch of propoganda. But to stumble across a well equipped, apparently well planned terrorist incident like this on their very first day out into the city, when one of their most critical assets had been separated from all but the most basic of support... it was enough to make her paranoia twinge. And if she was twinging, Washington was in full on freak out mode.

"No one thing, ma'am." Jonathon replied, his voice tired but his diction still clear, despite having told her this over five times already. "I just got the sense that they weren't moving right. Not like civilians, but like a fireteam, deploying towards an objective. Past a certain point of training, movements like that become habitual, as you know, and though they were doing their best to act casual, they couldn't quite pull it off, and my subconscious picked up on it."

"And you did not see this?" Adelaide inquired of Lieutenant Nordstrom.

"No, ma'am. My Perspective Shift didn't have the right angle, positioned as it was on JD's shoulder. All I could see was Railgun and the boy Touma Kamijou, at least until we had reached the top of the ramp up to the tram station. After that point, I did notice the hostiles, but having reached their objective, presumably, they were doing a better job of blending in, and I did not detect anything suspicious about them until the incident began." Melanie answered, her brow furrowed as she searched her memory for anything else to add, but came up empty.

"And you did not warn anyone about your suspicions, Sergeant?" Adelaide prompted, switching back to her juniormost soldier, looking at him but also through him, her eyes unfocusing as she listened but also tried to turn her mind towards incorporating the data, like adding pieces to a puzzle until finally completing it. "You gave no clue, no hint, no warning at all, to anyone, especially not Touma Kamijou?"

"I did not. I had my suspicions, but when operating in fuzzy allied territory like this, I wasn't about to provoke an incident, in accordance with our standing orders. I could have been misinterpreting things, and the situationw as very fluid, so I kept quiet, though I remained on heightened alert myself." Jonathon confirmed, though he winced a little as he said it. There was no way he could have known for sure of course, but given what had happened, he wished he had said something. Maybe one of the others had noticed something too but had not spoken up, he might have been confirming their opinion... or at least putting them on alert too. But he had not known them well enough to bring something like that up out of the blue. Not without chancing looking stupid, which would reflect badly on the ACME program.

"So without any kind of warning, you're telling me that this random high school student, who claims to be a level 0 Esper, managed to completely disrupt the timing of the terrorist attack, and also reveal their hidden stash of weapons in the process? That is what I should put in my report? That a highly trained US soldier of ACME merely had suspicions on which he felt unable to decisively act, but some random civilian level 0 in Academy City not only detected the threat but acted to neutralize it in one of the most effective possible ways, without alerting the terrorists before he acted? That doesn't reflect very well on you, Sergeant, and by extension, on me and the rest of us." Adelaide said, her voice intentionally challenging, seeing if she might jostle some further admittance from Sherman via doing so.

"I have no excuse nor explanation, ma'am, other than what I initially mentioned, that it could simply have been a lucky coincidence. As for how the report reflects, all we can do is put down the facts as we know them. The truth as we know it, is the truth as we know it, and trying to excuse or re-apportion blame is not helpful. If the Brass want to blame me, and us, for not acting properly, then they can and they will. But for the life of me, ma'am, I do not see what I could have done differently, while still complying with all other rules of engagement and current standing orders." Jonathon stiffed almost to attention as he spoke, but did not otherwise rise to Adelaide's tone.

"Very well." Adelaide said neutrally, though privately she agreed with the Sergeant. Especially given his limitations as a Level 0, and as caretaker of JD, his performance during the incident had been quite adequate. Of course, for the Brass who controlled ACME, adequate was hardly good enough... for ACME, exceptional was the bare minimum standard. "What happened next, Sergeant?"

"As soon as I saw the weapons and recognized that they were not toys or props, I prioritized getting JD to a relative degree of safety, pushing his wheelchair down the ramp and out of the immediate line of fire, while providing suppressing fire over my shoulder with my pistol. My weapon was loaded, as per standing orders, with rubber tip non-lethal rounds, and though I believe I struck at least one hostile, I inflicted no serious casualties upon the enemy at that time. At that point, Railgun and Kuroko Shirai had engaged the hostiles as well, as had Touma Kamijou." Jonathon continued.

"And you say that Kamijou rushed the enemy, who was armed with automatic rifles and handguns, SMG's, hand grenades and who knows what else, with nothing but his bare hands? In a frontal attack? Charging even in front of the line of fire of a Level 5 ally?"

"He appears to have relatively extensive street fighting experience, and despite uncovering the terrorists, may not have fully realized how many of them there were. With the constrained environment of the tram platform, opting to close to melee battle with the enemy, while not my choice or recommendation, is not the worst choice he could have made. The Railgun was also providing significant covering fire and suppression to the enemy via her electric shocks and magnetic interference with their weapons. By the time I hand reloaded my beretta with live rounds, Kamijou had engaged one of the terrorists, who had just tried and failed to suicide bomb via hand grenades thanks to Shirai's quick thinking and actions. He deonstrated adequated skill at hand to hand combat, evading the worst of his target's blows and landing a strong hit of his own, but then sub-optimally tried to tackle a larger and stronger opponent and was thrown off and to the ground. This did result in clearing my line of fire though, and I triple tapped the hostile in the upper chest and throat before he could pounce on Kamijou." Jonathon reported, his brow furrowing as he knew what question the Major would bring up next, something he himself was still struggling to understand. One of many things really.

"Why don't you describe how Kamijou reacted to your timely intervention, Sergeant?" Adeliade prompted.

"I didn't have long to notice, as combat was continuing, but I distinctly remember noting that he turned to look at me with what I can only describe as outrage. As if he was offended that I had saved his life, or at least saved him from serious injury from getting stomped on. That was my initial impression anyway, but as I've had time to think on it, I believe he was not angry at me for saving him, out of pride or the like, but rather furious that I had resorted to deadly force in order to do so." Jonathon smiled bitterly. "I guess for all his bravery, he is just a civilian after all. From talking with him earlier in the day, I found him to be admirable, if idealistic. Apparently his idealism even carries forward into life or death combat. I am not sure whether to be impressed or appalled at that, personally. Or rather, I find it even more admirable, but I also find it stupid and surprisingly arrogant for such an otherwise humble seeming person." Jonathon shook his head, still trying to make up his mind exactly what sort of person Touma Kamijou was. A wannabe hero? A madman? A crusading idealist with delusions of grandeur?

"Let us speak more of what happened before you incapacitated the hostile." Adelaide turned to Lieutenant Nordstrom again. "You confirm what the Sergeant was saying... that this Touma Kamijou, once more I stress a Level 0, actually charged out in front of a Level 5 Electromaster, in order to engage an armed foe in hand to hand battle?"

"I can confirm that is what happened, though I can hardly believe it myself. It's like he had not the slightest worry about the possibility of friendly fire or impeding his allied Esper's attacks. Bravery or foolhardiness, I cannot say which, perhaps a mix of both. Certainly I would not have run out between the Railgun and a group of heavily armed terrorists like that." Melanie answered, her voice still sounding a little stunned. "It was like one of those situations, where a soldier runs through enemy fire to save a comrade, except the situation wasn't dire enough to require any acts of suicidal bravery! The Railgun was certainly capable of taking down the entire group of hostiles by herself in short order. Though I will note that she did not wipe them out as fast as I would have expected from a level 5. She appeared to have been holding back considerably the entire fight, even compared to the low end of what Intelligence says she should be capable of."

"From what we know, she is one of the two level 5's of Academy City that is the least involved with the Real Academy City." Adelaide paused contemplatively. "So you're saying that she decided to resolve the situation with minimal, non-lethal force, despite being confronted with a large group of fanatical terrorists clearly hell bent on killing her and many innocent civilians in the area? I guess she really is still just a kid after all." Adelaide said that last, not with disdain, but with a degree of sympathy, and maybe even the tiniest hint of envy.

"She may also have been holding back to avoid catching Kamijou in her attacks." Jonathon added. "Though once the terrorists began inflicting collateral casaulties on the arriving train, she definitely seemed to loosen her self restraints a bit and nuked the platform less discriminantly. Though I noticed that Kamijou still remained unharmed during even this stage of her attack. Assessing the degree of control a level 5 has over their power in a stressful situation is difficult, but it is possible that even enraged, Railgun deliberately avoided harming Kamijou. At least, that is the only thing I can think of to explain how he escaped that area assault unharmed."

"That brings up a point from your earlier report, Sergeant. Why don't you tell me again, in your own words, what sort of relationship that Railgun and this Touma Kamijou have, in your experience?"

"I believe them to be at least mutually infatuated, if not actually romantically involved, though very awkward and restrained about any possible public display of affection. They are certainly close friends, despite coming from wildly dissimilar backgrounds and life situations. They even appear to have experience in combat together. While Railgun may have held back from her full potential while engaging the hostiles, she showed no hesitation to unleash bursts of electricity down range even with Kamijou in the line of fire. Perhaps she simply has that much control over her targeting. Or perhaps she has that much faith in his ability to either weather or avoid her attacks. She definitely showed confidence in his ability to fight, as she did not once interfere in any of the hand to hand scuffles he engaged in." Jonathon replied confidently.

"Once more, Military Intelligence appears to be unable to find its butt with both hands. How could they miss a detail like this, on the Railgun of all people?" Adelaide allowed just a tiny hint of her frustration to show for a moment. Complaining in front of subordinates was not a good habit for a commanding officer to get into, but ACME was a little more relaxed on things like that, as while there were differences in rank between them all, they were also still all peers in a manner of speaking, all united by their common Esperness. Except for the Sergeant of course, and he at least was trying, if failing dismally. And JD, because of the nature of his power which forever condemned him to being an outsider. She leaned back on the couch and massaged the bridge of her nose for a moment, almost instinctively reaching out with her power to stir up the air currents in the room, providing a brief refreshing breeze for herself and the other two.

She mulled over what the Sergeant had said while recovering her poise. On the surface of things, it seemed utterly ridiculous, as the Sergeant had even noted in his report on the subject, what sorts of common ground could a level 5 and a level 0 really have? Maybe it was just teenage hormones... she wasn't entirely above them herself, though none of her junior officers would ever be allowed to see that side of her. But if it was hormones, why were they so reserved with each other in public? At least they would have been holding hands or rubbing arms or something, surely. Perhaps there were teenagers out there with the self restraint to avoid touching the objects of their mutual hormonal affections in a publicly acceptable manner when given the chance, but generally that was not the case. So did their public reservation instead speak to feelings deeper than pure hormones? Was that even possible? Perhaps between a Level 5 and a Level 4. Maybe even a Level 3. But Adeliade could not imagine a Level 0 having the necessary mindset or experiences to even comprehend what a Level 5 went through every day just by existing! Everyone focused on the amazing powers, and almost no one, not even fellow Espers, really gave any thought to the burdens involved, the everyday trials and frustrations, not even mentioning the expectations!

It was not for nothing that the greater majority of Level 5's currently known to exist were mentally troubled or broken in some respect, and all Level 5's found or created thus far evidenced peculiar quirks of emotion and intellect. Railgun's obsession with fantasy characters and toys designed for children half her age, to the point of spending hundreds of dollars to obtain even the most insignificant item related to it that caught her eye, was one such well documented quirk. In fact, obsessive-compulsive behavior was apparently common in the Railgun, from all reports, though not quite in the same way as the more usually diagnosed disorder. The brain of a Level 5 was still definitely human, but the process of getting there tend to put them way out on the edge of the bell curves of human behavior, both despite their amazing computational powers, and because of them. Adelaide herself was not immune... she suffered from crippling levels of calustrophobia, to the point where her effective power level would drop all the way down to Level 2 if she was confined in a space too small to stretch her arms out in, though this was a closely held secret. Merely passing through such a space was unpleasant, but would not affect her in the short term... it was only being trapped in such a space that got to her so badly.

As unpleasant as that could be, especially in the military where travel inside relatively cramped accomodations was not uncommon, Adelaide gave thanks that she at least didn't suffer homicidal tendencies or psychopathic breaks, unlike the Number 1 and the Number 2 of Academy City. From what little was known of her, the Number 5 of Academy City, Mental Out, could best be described as having an attitude of "enlightened sociopathy" towards life, while the Number 4, Meltdowner, was a raging sadist with anger mangement issues. Number 6 was still a mystery of course, and Number 7 was, at best guess, completely delusional, though at least in an amusing and mostly harmless way. No, Adelaide considered herself fortunate, all things considered. But with all hat in mind, she just did not see how a Level 0 would be able to handle being so emotionally close to a Level 5, regardless of hormones. Not to mention the all too prevelant fear that Level 5's generated in others, sometimes deliberately, often without meaning to, just by existing and exercising their powers.

"Let's set that aside for the moment." Adelaide said after about a minute of her thoughts not helping her stress levels. She hated enigmas, so much! She knew she was one of the smartest human beings on the planet, so when she couldn't figure something out, it gnawed at her constantly. "More concerning is the anomaly that occured towards the end of the fight. Sergeant, you claim to have tripled tapped one of the terrorists through the upper chest and throat... how do you explain how that subject managed to get up again? Never mind the mutations to his mouth and fingers, his heart and lungs and throat should have been a mass of pulp, if you'd shot him three times in that location!"

"I shot him, Ma'am, there is no doubt of that. He went down hard and he bled out, he had to of! There was far too much blood on the ground for anyone to have survived! I cannot explain that. Nor how he took multiple rounds from my handgun afterwards without showing signs of pain or even discomfort. Whatever drugs or genetic enhancements or whatever it was that he had, it was like nothing I've ever seen or heard about before." Jonathon replied, shivering as he remembered it.

"And of course we also cannot explain how Touma Kamijou, unarmed, managed to take down that freak via simple punching, while you and the Railgun were unable to stop it at all. You mentioned black flames rising from the flesh of the terrorist after Kamijou punched him... could that have been an Esper power, do you think? Might Kamijou have lied to you about his Level? That could make a lot of things make more sense..." Adelaide asked, frowning and shaking her head in confusion. The further along in the AAR they got, the less that made sense. Writing off the behavior of Railgun and this Kamijou as civilian weirdness, the use of these bags that somehow folded space to contain entire arsenals without changing their outer volume, or revealing their contents to detection equipment, as well as the apparently unkillable freak of nature, it asked more questions than it answered!

"I could not say, Ma'am. Other than when Kamijou told me earlier in the day that he was a Level 0, he seemed quite sincere, and Shirai, the other guide, who seemed to know him, did not dispute his claim. And given her apparent feelings of animousity towards him, I feel like if he had been lying to me, she would have called it out in some fashion. It's just a gut feeling, Ma'am, perhaps all the moreso as a Level 0 myself, but I don't believe he has any Esper ability at all. As for explaining the black flames and the way his punches seemed to annihilate the man his blows only caused medium damage to before..." Jonathon spread his hands helplessly and shrugged, shaking his head as well. "Your guess is as good as mine, Major."

"Pardon my asking Ma'am, but do you think this was all a set up? With the Sergeant and JD off on their own, was this an attempt by Academy City, or maybe the Russians, to try and take out some of our team? I can't help but think the timing is a little too close for comfort." Melanie asked, her teeth clenched with tension. They had all been briefed on the ruthlessness of Academy City's controllers after all... and it wasn't like ACME itself and its directors were candidates for sainthood either, much more the opposite really. "These terrorists were extremely well armed, well trained, equipped with technology we can't even seem to understand, and appeared in the middle of Academy City without the city authorities apparently even realizing they were there. Without the apparent random chance encounter of Railgun with the Sergeant's party, the terrorists almost certainly would have launched a successful attack!"

"It could have been. I doubt the Russians would have acted so boldly though, not in Academy City anyway. If they were involved and it got out, it would be an act of war, and Russia, for all its tough talk, isn't ready for a war with Academy City according to all of our strategic estimates. As for a false flag attack by a group tied to the Board of Directors of Academy City, that's much more possible. It would explain the outlandish technologies at least. And they can be pretty casual with spending the lives of their Espers, probably because they have so damn many of them, so the possible collateral damage might not have concerned them. I think my opinion on that will depend on how thorough and effective the Anti-Skill investigation into the incident is. If they can't get any results after several days and start refusing to share intel with us, or we discover the stuff they're sending us is censored or altered more than usual, then I'd feel pretty confident that this was a covert hit against us. Such would be out of character for the Board, but not out of the realm of possibility." Adelaide replied thoughtfully.

"Maybe they found out what JD's ability really is?" Melanie wondered, half under her breath.

"LOCK THAT SHIT DOWN LIEUTENANT!" Adelaide snarled, half rising from the couch as air currents gathered around her in a visual display of her anger. "Don't ever say things like that, even here. But to answer your stupid question, no, I'm certain that's not the case. The response wasn't strong enough to be that. Believe me, I've seen the force estimates... this terror attack, false flag or not, wouldn't even begin to cover the shitstorm that would have gone down if they knew what the Warrant Officer could really do. Not to mention that we'd all be under attack right the hell now if they did!"

"My apologies ma'am." Melanie replied quickly, standing stiffly at attention, her face pale, Jonathon doing much the same thing next to her even though the Major's ire was directed at him. They could both see the air visible distorting around their commanding officer, before the currents slowly dissipated as she settled back down onto the couch.

"For the time being, we'll assume that this is what it appears to be, a terrorist group with unknown intentions, picking the wrong time and wrong place to attempt an attack. We may have been the targets, or it could have been Academy City... there's certainly enough groups out in the world that would love to give them a black eye and aren't too choosy about how it happens. Everyone should stay on heightened alert from now on, until we more fully understand the situation. All ACME members will now go out into the city only in groups of 3 or more, and JD is to be escorted by myself or Captain Lawe at all times while outside this hotel. We will not be withdrawing from the city though, and our mission here has not changed. You are both dismissed!" Adelaide returned their salutes as they both marched, perhaps a trifle more quickly than usual, out of her room. An angry Level 5 was not someone most people wanted to spend much time around after all...

xxxx

 **Within the Windowless Building**

"I must say, I did not expect to come to your attention so quickly, Chairman of the Board of Directors." Lord Izarde said in tones of mild admiration, as he watched the person who had brought him within the sanctum sanctorum of Academy City vanished into the dimensional aether once more. A young looking girl who wore bandages around her breasts and an open jacket over her shoulders, with red hair and a twisted grin seemingly pasted on her face. It was his first time seeing an Esper up close, and he had to admit, he was a little impressed. The way they wielded their powers truly was nothing at all like Magic, an entirely new take on the supernatural. The natural sciences had come a long, long way indeed from the time of his own youth, if they could produce such creatures without even a hint of mana or magical energies involved. There were no incantations, no need for ritual symbology or the convoluted correspondences of Idol Theory, there was simply power, the udnerstanding of it, and the will to use it. It was quite elegant indeed, definitely a masterwork. And none of it an accident, all of it deliberate, the result of hard work, the project of a genius standing above all others... perhaps even above himself.

The girl had arrived at the newly bought Three Kings headquarters office only fifteen minutes ago, bearing a message with the seal of the Academy City Board of Directors, requesting that Izarde, as the titular CEO of Three Kings, come to a orientation and policy explanation meeting at the Windowless building, at his earliest convenience. The arrival of the messenger or something to that effect was something he had anticipated of course... nothing went on within Academy City without coming to the attention of the Board sooner or later, and it would be foolish arrogance to think that he, a near total outsider, for all his experience and power, could usurp that dynamic. However he had not anticipated it occuring so soon. The Black Hand Society had failed to achieve quite the ruckus he had hoped for, though their actions had served as enough of an incident to gain notice, which was the minimum required victory conditions in his mind. It was less an attack and more a way of announcing his arrival in the City, and seeing who would respond to such an announcement, and how.

But though the Black Hands had failed, he had been sure that they would not betray his confidences so quickly... and they would all be dead long before they could be broken through physical torture, and he had subtly hardened their minds against drugs and magical interrogation while blessing them the night before. However he had not reckoned with the power of Espers, or rather, he had just confirmed for himself that Esper related mental powers were not the same as magical mental powers, and thus countermeasures against one were not effacious against the other... a critical piece of knowledge. As had been the presence of the Imagine Breaker, which Izarde had watched through a scrying link to his created Wight, in the short period between its reanimation and its destruction by the Imagine Breaker. Now THAT was something truly incredible indeed. The wielder of a power older and potentially greater than that of all other powers, present here in the City and apparently under the influence of the Board of Directors, if not aware of such most likely. What a wonderfully complicated situation this was becoming... Izarde hadn't felt so energized in centuries!

And now here he was, at the very brainstem of Academy City, deep within a fortress so strong it boggled even his own mind... he had long preferred the use of disguise, camouflage and being forgotten by most of the world to secure his own fastnesses... one could not find what one did not even know to look for after all. But this place dared the world to take notice and laughed at any attempt to breach its defenses. It was a bold thing to do... a sign of arrogance? Of recklessness? Or something else? Maybe just prudence... pragmatism wasn't always dull and uninteresting after all. Sometimes the pragmatic course of action was the flashiest and most noticable. Izarde looked around in more open admiration not that the Guide had left... it would not do to let underlings and minions see his true feelings after all, be they his own or anyone elses. The room was expansive, with an almost infinite geometric pattern of pipes and circuits and conduits and wires impressed into the walls and floor and ceiling, the entire room done in hues of gold and black and amber.

To most it would be meaningless visual noise, the human eye and mind not equipped to take in the full scope of detail required to see that everything was placed deliberately, with purpose, and with meaning. Izarde could not yet decipher all of that hidden information... not only was it present but it was encrypted in a manner he was not familiar with, perhaps relying on some sort of scientific formula or other. It reminded him of the writing that appeared in the margins of magic circles... to most mages, those squiggles and images and pictograms were little more than decorative flair, passed down from teacher to student as merely part of how the circle should be constructed, that to gain the proper effect you must use such symbols, even without truly understanding what it was that they meant or actually symbolized. But all told, it simply reinforced in his mind that this place was truly the center of Academy City, in a metaphysical sense at least. All meaning and data in the City was collected for and radiated out from, this place.

In the center of the room itself was a tube of some sort of transparant material that stretched from ceiling to floor, and perhaps both up into the ceiling and down into the floor. It could have been glass, but given the security of the rest of the building, Izarde was willing to take it for granted that it was instead some sort of super scientific material that was likely nearly invulnerable. The tube was filled with a light amber colored liquid, and floating within that liquid, upside down from the persepctive of anyone standing on the floor, was a man with long silvery hair and eyes like frozen emeralds. This man wore what looked like hospital scrubs of pale aqua hue, with bare feet, and his hair hung up his back and towards his feet in defiance of gravity, suggesting that there was something about the fluid within the tube that allowed such to occur. As a byproduct, or was it intentional? A method of putting an observer ill at ease? Nothing could be taken from granted, not with this man, not with the Superintendent of Academy City, Aleister Crowley.

Izarde was wearing his well tailored suit and top hat, along with watch and fob chain, and his many rings, but had left behind his ivory and ebon cane. No sense being reckless after all, even if he did not expect anything in the way of violence during this meeting. That particular tool was not well suited for conflicts with this particular enemy anyway. And they would be enemies, Izarde knew that. Affable ones perhaps, but when you played the game at this level, there was no such thing as an ally or a friend. Only pawns and foes, and occasionally foes with reason for a short term agreement of convenience between them. He walked with his usual stiffness to stand in front of the tube, Aleister floating several feet above him, forcing him to look upward a bit to meet the Superintendent's eyes, a subtle tactic that many a ruler throughout history had used to good advantage to set their visitors on the back foot.

"Mr. Izarde, thank you for coming on such short notice." Aleister spoke, his voice neutral as usual, though there was a timbre to the blandness that was oxymoronically quite rich and powerful. The hidden confidence of a man at the height of his power, in his most secure place, with contingencies prepared for every possible outcome, addressing a problem like any of a thousand others he might deal with on any given day. Izarde was familiar with such a tone, having used it himself on more occasions than he could remember. Izarde watched the Superintendent watching him, knowing that there would be no clue in his face, posture or body language to inform Aleister of what he was thinking or feeling. Not through training or experience, but simply because it was impossible due to Izarde's own circumstances. He deliberately did not reply to Aleister's noncommital greeting, waiting to see what the Superintendent would do next.

"When you brought your company to my City, I initially welcomed it. Three Kings Shipping and Transport is a company I am familiar with, and comes highly recommended by all my usual contacts and vendors. Completely above board, well, as much so as any international company can afford to be. Academy City is not hurting for its budget, but more outside funds flowing in is always welcome regardless, and it would certainly be a mutually profitable exchange over time." Aleister went on, ignoring the silence of his guest, as if it were expected. "But I'm sure you can imagine my surprise when we had that little incident a short while ago, and when I had it investigated, the trail led right back to your company, Mr. Izarde. You took precautions to hide your involvement... quite serious ones, even by my standards, though quite insufficient regardless. But surprise is not an emotion I am used to feeling, Mr. Izarde. It is not one I enjoy. And to be clear, I am not surprised that your company has connections with terrorists, weapons manufacturers and even with Magic Cabals of some sort... past a certain point, to operate on the highest levels, everyone has such connections in this world."

Aleister's eyes narrowed just the tiniest fraction. "No, Mr. Izarde, what surprised me, and continues to vex me, is that when I looked into you, it was like looking into a pit with no bottom. Many people know of you, but no one seems to know you personally. Your past, your present, even your future ambitions, all of them are completely unknown. Do you realize how difficult it is to do something like that, especially in this day and age? It is as if you do not exist, Mr. Izarde, even as you stand here before me. I will ask you a question I do not often have pass through my lips. Who are you? And what do you want in Academy City?"

"Thank you for that compliment, Superintendent." Izarde doffed his hat in pleasure, dipping his head slightly. "I have worked quite hard over a very long period of time, in order to erase myself from existence. It is truly good to hear that even a man with your resources has no knowledge of me. If you will allow me to return the compliment, I must admit that no one my organization contacted or bribed or extorted, no matter how favorable the relationship, how much was paid or what threats were made, no one could provide details about yourself to me either. Other than what is publicly available of course. Were it not for my own personal knowledge, I would have come here completely blind, and that is no small feat." Izarde placed his hat back upon his head and looked up at Aleister again.

"Personal knowledge?" Aleiste's voice turned just the slightest bit chilly, his nearly peerless mind working at light speed to interpret what that meant.

"In fact, I must compliment you even more." Izarde went on, ignoring the subtle prompt. He would get to it, in his own good time. "Not only have you erased yourself from the minds and histories of the modern world, Aleister Crowley, you did so while retaining your original name the entire time. Truly, Archmagus, that is a feat of legends! I cannot even imagine how you did so... perhaps you would condescend to tell me?"

"Who are you?" Aleister's voice was now hovering just slightly above the temperature of glacial chill, and had acquired a definite tinge of command rather than playful banter. "Do not seek to toy with me, Mr. Izarde. Such insinuations, in the wrong ears, might prove hazardous to your health."

"That is doubtful. But let us set that aside, Aleister. You want to know how I know who you are, and it is simple... I remember you. We've met before, back during the Great War. 1916, late March, Verdun. You were working with the French to help them devise a magical countermeasure to some of the new German poison gas weapons. Or rather that was the price the French were making you pay to gain access to certain relics they had in their possession dating from those Egyptian ruins you're so fond of. I was backing the Germans in that conflict, and it was some of my recipes that they were using on the French. During the acquisition of one such recipe by your group, we happened to meet and talk for a bit. You knew me as Hauptmann back then. I offered to give you a place within my team as my direct subordinate, and you politely refused the offer... then blew up the bunker I was in and flooded it with all that poison gas I'd been making. Ah, good times. Though to be honest I'd had my eyes on you for much of your career... that was just the first good opportunity I had to meet with you without the rest of your Cabal around."

"So you are a Necromancer then." Aleister said bluntly, easily recalling the memories in question, and making the appropriate connections. "I suppose I should have seen that coming, but it is unusual for one of your sort to involve themselves with the affairs of the living so directly. And Hauptmann is clearly not your true name either. I must admit, the hints you dropped during your recruitment spiel, such as it was, did interest me. But my own researches at the time were much more engaging than your promises of guidance on matters I wasn't entirely sure I cared about. Necromancy never really interested me, it always felt like a stale discipline, if I may be honest, best suited for those who had lost someone and were unable to let go like they properly should. There was only one principle in Necromantic studies that ever drew my interest, and in the end I discarded it as insufficent to my purposes... as all Magic was, I realized eventually."

"You are right, that most turn to Necromancy in order to try to revive a loved one, or perhaps to try and steal knowledge of other Magics and the secrets of the deep past from the dead, and most rarely out of actual respect for the rules of life and death and an urge to protect them, but I, like you, was only initially interested in it because of its applications for extending the duration of one's mortal existence. As for being involved in the War, like I said, it was just a hobby really... but there are necromantic benefits to causing a great deal of death in a very short time... a form of human sacrifice, really. Lots of potential energy there, just waiting to be harvested. As for it being stale, perhaps, as certainly there has been little in the way of innovation within the discipline since the time of Egypt, but like a body of water, it might be stagnant, but that doesn't prevent it from being deep all the same. It may have been the first magical discipline ever created, predating even religion." Izarde shrugged heavily. "As for my true name, it has been lost to the dust of history. I no longer even care enough to recall it, and it holds no power over me. Izarde is as good a name as any."

"There is already one Necromancer in residence in this City..." Aleister began to say.

"I have no interest in the Rosenthal child. She is precocious, and perhaps talented in a limited sort of way, but she has no relation to and me to her. In truth she would probably be an enemy of mine, if I cared enough about such a gnat. Certainly she would attempt to destroy me should she learn who and what I am." Izarde cut him off. "Since we are being polite enough to be blunt, as old acquiantances, and I quite admire you, for what you have done, and what you plan to do... I shall tell you why I am here directly. I am the leader of a Magic Cabal, as you no doubt have already surmised. We are not affiliated with any of the major Cabals active in the modern era, including any of your usual problem children like the Roman Catholics or Russion Orthodoxy. We call ourselves the Hollow Ones, but don't bother looking into that too hard. Most people don't believe we exist at all. I am looking to change that though."

"You seek recognition? Why come here then? There is a delicate balance between Magic and Science, and your actions could cause chaos across the world..." Aleister trailed off with a flicker of his lips that could have been a frown.

"Do not make me laugh, Aleister. There is no balance between Magic and Science. Magic has existed for millenia, and Science is a power that exists only because of you, and only within the last century. That you have come so far, for the majority of the Light Side Cabals and Organizations to fear you as they do, to the point of treating you as a legitimate threat and resorting to negotiation and compromise rather than brute force, is an accomplishment to match any of the feats of myth and legend, if I do say so myself. This balance you speak of is nothing more than a ceasefire agreement while all sides and factions involved plan best how to stab each other in the back or try to find the proper weapon to use to destroy their enemies and gain ascendancy. And even then it is more like a Cold War than a ceasefire... both sides send operatives covertly to attack and disrupt the other side on a daily basis, sometimes with only the thinnest layers of plausible deniablity involved." Izarde shook his head in repudiation of such an idea.

"As for causing chaos, well, yes. That is my goal. We of the Hollow Ones are apocalyptic nihilists, I suppose would be the modern terminology. We seek the destruction of the current world order, perhaps even the world itself. Mages in general, as you well know, are broken people, who turned to Magic in order to fix or gain something from life that was denied or lost to them, childish people who cannot bear to live in a world that would be so cruel as to deny them what they cared for or wished for. Such mages, though many might be cruel or selfish, are still what I would call Light Mages. They want to fix the world, make it a better place, even if only for themselves. Dark Mages such as my Cabal, care not for fixing this world. We do not seek to regain anything. We just wish to destroy. To break and smash and burn everything... like a toddler throwing a tauntrum, uncaring of what is destroyed in the process or even what happens to us afterwards. If a Light Mage is motivated by their strong Desire to fix the unfair world, then a Dark Mage is motivated by pure Hatred to destroy it." Had he been been able to, Izarde would have smiled broadly. After so many centuries of deception and misdirection, it was pleasant to just baldly state the truth to someone who could appreciate it.

"As for coming here in particular, I think you know that already. Academy City is the focus of this world, just by existing, the bastion of Science, the new power in a world formerly always dominated by Magic. No place on this Earth is more watched and studied than Academy City. All factions, Magic, Science and vanilla Mortal, all have their eyes on Academy City. By appearing here, the Hollow Ones will become a force to be known and feared the quickest." Izarde paused, and really, really wished he could smile. A permanent rictus just wasn't the same. "And of course, I came here because I figure I know what you're up to here, Aleister, and I'm not about to let you get away with it unopposed! The Light Side Cabals may or may not realize what you intend... most of them are so comically short sighted and focused on their own ambitions, I would not be surprised they hadn't even thought about why Academy City exists in the first place... about why ANYONE would create Academy City at all, why Espers are even a thing at all! Gemstone Envy? Hardly, that is why Magic came about, or so everyone believes. No, its because of the one thing almost all Mages are blind to... that Magic CANNOT do everything. In fact there are things it very specifically can NEVER do. But Science is not bound by the rigid laws of Magic... is it, Aleister?"

"So you are declaring yourself my enemy then?" Aleister replied coolly, his face once more as blank as Izarde's own, and commendable for that since Aleister was still flesh and blood after all.

"I did not think I needed to. Everyone is your enemy, Aleister, whether they realize it or not. Anyone who had even the faintest idea of what you are really up to here, could not fail but to turn all their efforts to trying to interfere with you. But I know you already realize that, or you wouldn't have lived this long. And while I am your enemy, I am sure I can also be useful to you. Surely your plans encompass the capability to make use of even your enemies in order to achieve your goals. More than declaring myself your enemy, Aleister, I am declaring myself your challenger. You own the board, and the greater majority of the pieces currently in play, and have the advantage of a power that I still do not understand more than slightly. I in turn possess resources and magical knowledge unknown even to you, as well as pawns of my own that most do not even believe possible to exist. I will be a new and random variable in your vast formula... perhaps it will be the variable that is unresolvable and brings it all crashing down... or maybe you will exceed my own genius with your own and use me as just another stepping stone." Izarde tilted his head to the side in a gesture of ambivilance.

"Either way, I am sure that it will be greatly entertaining. And as I'm sure you can appreciate, for those of us who choose to live beyond our normal mortal years by whatever method, there is nothing more pleasant than a good game to the death to liven things up." Izarde turned to walk away, sure that the Guide would be returning soon to effect his exit.

"Perhaps I should simply destroy you right now." Aleister said noncommitally. "It is within my power."

"So you assume anyway. But you still do not know the real me, as I do not know the real you, Archmagus. We comprehend the edges of each other, I have no doubt. That is because I believe us to be similar people, in essence. Had I been born in the modern age, with the natural sciences advanced to the point they were when you first created Academy City, I probably would have done the same as you are. Alas I lived in a time far, far before that, without the option of extending my living lifespan as you have in order to pursue a grand goal, so instead of building a new universe, I have committed myself to destroying the current one." Izarde said over his shoulder. "But why risk being wrong about such an assumption, Archmagus-Superintendent Crowely? You know as well as I that the best course of action is to accept the game, and then simply outplay everyone else. It's no more than you are already attempting to anyway. Attempting to destroy me now, would be to say you truly fear that I might beat you at your own game... is that the impression you really want to give me?"

"I will summon a guide to return you to your current residence." Aleister answered without inflection or agreement... though anything other than an immediate attempt to destroy Izarde was basically agreement. "One last thing before you go, Izarde."

"Yes Aleister?" Izarde asked, attentively if casually.

"Do not give yourself the impression that you can act entirely as you please within my city. I enjoy a game much as you do, but that doesn't mean I enjoy being spectated while playing by the entire world. Remember that you are a player of the game, not the owner of the board, or I shall have to arrange for your illusions to be... shattered..."

"That would be interesting to see. Like you, Aleister, I have already had my illusions broken... a long, long time ago..."


	10. In Pursuit of Technomagic

**Author Note:**

As a point of potential interest, judging by reviews and my story stats, which show that I have half as many page views for Chapter 8 as I do for Chapter 9, some readers may be interested to realize that my most recent update before this one was actually a Dual update, Chapters 8 and 9 coming out together. I have gotten reviews for Chapter 9, as of the time of writing this, but nothing on Chapter 8. Perhaps that will change, but if you did miss Chapter 8, you should certainly check it out, as it provides plenty of set up for Chapter 9 that might make it easier to understand. And if you did not miss it, and simply chose to not mention it in a review, well then... shame on you, for deceiving me so. In any case, to reply to what has been said:

Wraith Five: Are you sure that is what Izarde said? I certainly did not mean it in that way... much the opposite really, it was meant as subtle threat and then a subtle rebuttal of that threat. Izarde has been around a very long time... Touma will not be the first time he's encountered the Imagine Breaker, though he's never encountered it in Touma at least.

NoName: I feel Touma and Mikoto are quite similar on their attitudes about dragging other people into their problems. Certainly Touma has his reasons for denying Mikoto the info she wants, but that doesn't mean they are all good reasons, or that he will even have any choice in the matter... as you say, she's going to investigate on her own, and she might end up being dragged in by other events even before that. His core conceit, that he can protect her by keeping her in the dark, will definitely be undergoing some revisions over time, much as Mikoto herself did in regard to her friends, in the Railgun Second season Silent Party arc. As for Aleister being vain... I definitely believe that he is. No man would do the things he does, make the plans he has, unless he truly believed he was better than everyone, that he could face and defeat the entire world without fail. He believes he is always in control of everything, and deplores acting rashly or personally if he has any option. He threatened Izarde to see what sort of response he would get, not because he intended to attack in person. Not before testing Izarde with pawns first anyway... which we will see much of in the coming chapters and arcs.

Izarde's plans do seem Joker-y on the surface, I agree. Hopefully I will be able to provide more nuance than that over time... certainly I intend it to be more complex than simply burning the world.

xxxx

 **Academy City, October 2nd, Back Alleys, Morning**

"Insufficiently rigorous. Completely insufficient!" Albert Joule complained bitterly under his breath, tossing the hunk of metal he had scrounged from the dumpsters behind one of Academy City's many research institutes over his shoulder, letting it clatter on the dirty concrete floor of the alley in an expression of minor pique. The scrap of metal was burnt and blackened and twisted, despite having been sourced from a place that was supposedly involved in researching lightweight, high tensile, heat resistant materials for use in aerospace and space exploration systems. It might be sufficient for aircraft, or even for spacecraft, but it was quite insufficient for the stresses that would be placed upon it by anything approaching the full output of his Perpetual Dynamo. He took a sip from his pipette, which was connected to a container of Powerade slung into a holster at his belt, letting the cool blue fluid quench his thirst and recharge his appetite for investigation. Though his search for the proper material to build the Mark 108 out of had not yet born fruit, he had still discovered that Academy City's technology was indeed further ahead than the rest of the world, they simply did not display it as openly as their propoganda would at first indicate.

He had found many interesting materials during his search, some of which he had made notes of for further research when time and energy allowed, but was still frustratingly unable to find a viable new option for his plans for the Mark 108 Perpetual Dynamo. As for secondary objectives, he had also still failed to secure a sufficiently well equipped and also private location to use as a materials engineering and experimentation laboratory. All the best locations seemed to be already taken, usually by very well equipped and very paranoid groups who did not appreciate him sticking his nose in around their property. Several had been incensed enough to indicate their displeasure with gunfire, necessitating rapid exfiltration of the premises well before he could complete his surveys. So perhaps it was not the worst thing that he had yet to discover his new wonder material, as he did not have a place in which to experiment on it and then use it to construct the Mark 108 anyway. He was still forced to move sleeping locations every couple of days, staying mostly in abandoned structures and using public restrooms at non-peak hours for cleanliness. He was largely self sustaining, and could go on at this rate for weeks yet if need be, but had to admit to feeling a tad bit discouraged all the same.

But no one had ever said scientific progress would be easy, he reminded himself sternly. Especially when treading off the beaten path of science practiced by the rest of the world, forced to cut his own trail and explore his own horizons without standing on the shoulders of prior giants to get a clear view of the next step first! Failure was only to be expected, and was only ever a bad thing if he allowed it to discourage or prevent him from continuing on regardless! Steeling his resolve once more, as he had often done in the past week or so since arriving in Academy City, Albert squared his shoulders, adjusted the weight of the Dynamo mark 107 on his back, and tromped off through the back alley to find his next potential target. He was sticking to the back alleys of late due to the recent terrorist attack, which had resulted in a heightened degree of public security and scrutiny, and he had no wish for official entanglements while pursuing his research. He was harmless, one of the good guys after all, but convincing the authorities of that, especially as an illegal presence, would be time consuming and fraught, time wasted he did not need!

If he could but complete his research, and perfect the Perpetual Dynamo, then things like terrorist groups and their wanton attacks would be a thing of the past. All of human conflict could be traced back to roots of having limited resources in his opinion. With unlimited power, the generation of other resources could also be increased, resulting in plenty for all, and there being no need for violent conflicts in the world. Honestly, considering what a worthy goal it was, he was shocked at times how few people in the world seemed to be pursuing solutions to the problem, as he was. The Haves seemed content to hoard their resources and oppress those with less power than them, while the Have Nots seemed content to lash out in violent resentment against the Haves, without taking steps to try and resolve the issue in other, more productive ways. As an outsider to most social interactions, it had never made sense to Albert... why could people simply not get along and work together for the betterment of all? It was clearly the best way of doing things after all!

Activating his GAMARA boots, Albert lifted himself over the three story building in front of him and lowered himself into the next alley over, slipping his AIM goggles over his eyes as he scouted the immediate area for signs of security cameras or life forms, hostile or otherwise. A burst of green sparks mingled with greyscale waveform patterns drew his attention a block or so down the alley, where it met a junction of other alley ways, and upon landing, Albert decided to head that way. The sight of Esper signatures was interesting, just the thing to allow him to recover from his failed attempts at materials research. He found the Espers of this city endlessly fascinating, and though the need to stay mostly unobserved precluded him from studying them or interacting with them as much as he wished, he still enjoyed observing them from a distance when he had the chance.

Lately he had been trying to figure out how exactly it was that Espers gained their powers... it was nothing like the way Magicians did, as far as he could tell. The results were far too varied, for one... magical formulas, even his own technomagical ones, were constant things. Anyone with the proper experience and training who used the formula would get the same sort of output from it as anyone else who did so. That was the whole point of formulas, schools of magic and Grimoires after all, to reliably replicate the initial discovery of a way to use magical energies to influence the rest of the world. Espers, Albert had discovered, did not work this way. Each manifested their powers in their own individual way, and even individuals with the same sort of base to their power, such as Electromasters, all seemed to manifest that power in different and unique ways. There seemed to be no common formula, just a series of related variables which were combined in ways he could not yet understand, which decided how an Esper's power manifested within each particular type of Esper power.

In some ways that was exciting... so many possible permutations of power to discover and research... he could now see why there was an entire City devoted to nothing but the study of this phenomena. It was also frustrating, because studying the powers of one Esper did not necessarily grant any insights into the workings of another Esper's power, even if they were of the same general type. Perhaps there was some more general study of Esper's as a whole that he was unaware of, which permitted extrapolation of data sets from one Esper onto the data sets of another Esper. It would be exciting to look into it, if he but had the time, but alas he had more important researches to conduct. That said, there was still time for a study break now and then, to prevent his mental pathways from being burnt out by being over-trod in the same ways again and again. Albert saw that the green sparks and greyscale patterns had retreated around the edge of the alley junction, and quickened his steps so that he would not lose track of his observation quarry.

Pausing at the edge of the junction, not wishing to be observed in turn, Albert edged his head around the corner to see what there was to be seen. All his AIM goggles showed him was a mostly undifferentiated cloud of green sparks and grey waveforms, and he realized that the subject of inquiry must either be extremely large, or consist of multiple people in close proximity, so that their bio-electric signs and Esper signatures overlapped. Raising the goggles proved it to be the latter scenario, his eyes blinking in the dim light of the alley as he discerned that there were four subjects, three males and one female. The three males looked to be slightly older than Albert, and wore school uniforms of a sort he had grown used to seeing... long dark trousers and a dark button up long sleeve overshirt or jacket with a collar. These uniforms looked a little disheveled, untucked from pants and with buttons partly undone, and given the somewhat chilly weather, Albert deduced it was done as a fashion statement of sorts, rather than a concession to too great of an external temperature.

Of the three male subjects, one had short buzzed hair, one had black hair, and one had red hair, though the red appeared to be a dye job rather than natural coloration. More detail than that, it was difficult to discern at this distance, with their backs mostly turned to him. They were certainly Japanese though, he could tell that much. It was another point of interest to him, that Academy City was supposed to be the center of Science for the whole world, and yet the population was overwhelmingly Japanese, both in faculty and students. Foreigners were not unknown, but they were definitely a greater minority than they should have been. Was there some sort of hidden bias at work? If so, why? Surely the City would benefit from drawing talent and students from all over the world, not just from within Japan, right? But that did not seem to be the case... one of many mysteries about Academy City he had noticed since coming here.

The three Males were bunched up around the sole Female, who appeared to be a year or two younger than Albert, dressed in a schoolgirl uniform consisting of a long blue skirt and white and blue sailor top. Albert quite approved of the female student uniforms in the city, and this one was no exception. This particular Female was on the small and delicate looking side, with large eyes and paler skin, and short black hair. A spot of color was provided by a headband of lifelike looking artificial flowers across the top of her head, as well as a green and white armband pinned to her right sleeve. Albert was distantly familiar with the latter, as it belonged to one of the volunteer law enforcement and public morals organizations the city used to keep control of its Student population. He couldn't quite remember the name, but recognized the symbol. They were generally people he tried to avoid, since they had the authority to detain him should they catch him, and that would be all sorts of awkward, though he had nothing against them personally. And quite approved of their institution as a whole. He wished there would be such things back in America.

Albert was far from an expert on the human Female in social situations, to his occasional chagrin, but even to his inexpert eyes, this girl appeared uncomfortable with her position in the center of a semi-circle of the three Males, with her back to the building wall behind her. However she also appeared resolute, standing firm and tall in the face of what was clearly intended as intimidation from the males. She appeared to be taking them to task for some sort of infraction, perhaps truancy or the like, as was within her remit as a moral officer. Equally apparent however was that the males did not appear to be willing to accept her authority or her chastisements, perhaps because there were three of them, and they were all bigger than her, and they were outside the public view. Albert could not make out what they were saying from his position, but he was all too familiar with the body language of bullies closing in on someone they considered an easy target. This presented a conundrum. In terms of pure cost-benefit, he felt becoming involved in this altercation would be sub optimal. He was trying to evade notice by law enforcement, and intervening in this little fracas would be doing the exact opposite of that.

On the other hand, he felt morally obligated to not abandon a fellow human being, especially a young and cute girl, to the clearly not-so-tender mercies of her current opponents. They did not appear to wish her fatal harm, but they also did not appear inclined to allow her to escape from her current situation, and would probably become violent in some manner shortly. As a man of honor, Albert felt like he could not stand by and watch a girl be assaulted and battered or even molested by delinquents such as this. As a prudent magitechnologist though, he reminded himself that the girl was almost certainly an Esper, and might be completely capable of taking care of three larger boys without issue. The obvious counterpoint to that was that so too were the males likely to be Espers, and that could greatly increase their individual threat level, beyond even what their size and numbers gave them. Albert was still debating his possible actions when the situation suddenly escalated.

One of the males, the one with short buzzed hair, reached out to try and grab the female by the shoulder, or perhaps by the breast, it was unclear as his hand never reached its desired target, the girl grabbing his wrist and twisting expertly with both of her own hands, bending the boy's arm in a painful and incapacitating direction, forcing him to twist his body to relieve the pressure, allowing her to manipulate him into crashing face first against the wall of the alley, with the girl now positioned behind him, and with his reaching arm pinned behind him as leverage. It was a slick move, well practiced, and a bit shocking, considering the way the girl looked, as if a harsh shout might send her to the ground in tears. Clearly caught off guard by the easy capture of their friend, the other two males hesitated a moment before closing in, one of them, the one with dyed red hair, pulling what looked like a metal ruler from his jacket pocket, brandishing it almost like a knife. Waves of heat suddenly bloomed around the boy's hand, as the metal ruler began to discolor and then glow a faint orange hue as it absorbed some form of thermal excitation from the Esper holding it.

The red haired boy casually thrust his glowing hot ruler at the girl's face, clearly expecting to make her flinch and retreat to free his friend, moving slowly enough with his attack to give her plenty of time to see it coming and retreat in fear. What the boy was clearly not expecting, and what caught Albert admittedly off guard as well, was for the petite girl to reach up with a free hand, the other still holding the buzz cut boy against the wall via twisted arm, and catch the orange hot metal ruler in her hand! There should have been a scream of pain, the sizzle of burning flesh, but neither came, the girl's hand somehow unharmed by the orange hot metal, as she tightened her grip and yanked the improvised weapon out of the red haired boy's hand and threw it aside quickly, sending it skittering away along the alley floor. Disarmed and clearly nonplussed, the red haired boy took a step back, his posture uncertain. However there was still the black haired boy to consider, and though his companions were wavering at the moment, he was not intimidated.

The black haired boy made a simple curt gesture with his hands, clenching them in mid air, but the effect on the girl was immediate and dramatic, as she released the boy she had held prisoner against the wall, both of her hands going to her throat, which seemed to suddenly be blocked or constricted in some manner, causing her face to flush as she struggled to draw in a breath, her eyes going wide and panicked as she slowly sagged down onto her knees. Apparently the black haired boy could not maintain his grip, likely some form of telekinesis Albert judged, for very long, because the girl soon managed to draw in a deep gasping breath of air, her body shuddering as she slowly started turning less purple, bracing herself on hands and knees on the alley floor. The buzz cut boy, seemingly humilated by his casual defeat in the initial assault on the girl, drew back his foot to put the boot in... something Albert was familiar with, having been on the receiving end of more than one back alley stomping in his time. That quite made up his mind, and he stepped around the corner with a sneer of disdain.

"Halt, you ignominious cads and base curs!" He demanded fiercely, pointing his WATT hand at them with fingers splayed in a threat posture. "Cease your assault upon that fair maiden, or suffer the consequences!" He ordered firmly. Though judging from the looks the three boys were giving him, clearly he had not come across quite as intimidating as he might have wished. It wasn't like he practiced such things after all. Normally he would have just blasted the three delinguents with electricity in some form by now, but they were still standing over the girl, and thus putting her in the line of fire. Albert felt that shocking the girl senseless along with the criminals would not exactly count as rescuing her, in her eyes or the eyes of the law. He needed to get them to leave her immediate vicinity before he took them down. Fortunately, a direct challenge was often a good way of doing so.

"What the fuck is this? Go cosplay somewhere else, you freak!" The buzz cut boy said hotly, clearly feeling like he had some manliness to recover after his manhandling by the girl. "Goddamn Level 0 punks, butting in where you don't belong! Get out of here, before we beat you even stupider than you look!" He threatened, cracking his knuckles and bunching his hands into fists.

"I do not recall announcing my power to you, villain. How can you be so sure that I pose no threat to you?" Albert asked, genuinely curious.

"I'm a level 2 Psychometrist. I can detect AIM diffusion fields in people at close range, and measure their relative strength compared to mine. And punk, you ain't got jack shit, so that means you're a Level 0. So you'd best turn your cosplay ass around and step off, or my pals and I will give you something to cry about before we teach this Judgement bitch a proper lesson in manners!" Buzz cut boy replied arrogantly, as his red haired friend stepped up by his side, drawing forth a long metal bicycle chain from within another pocket, quickly using his power again and causing it to start to glow with transmitted heat. The black haired boy, either smarter or crueller than his compatriots, remained standing over the petite girl, grabbing her by the back of the neck and lifting her upright, holding her in front of him as he smiled in a way that Albert did not like one bit. Clearly there was no further time to waste on verbal niceties.

Albert charged forward, ERG coattails flapping behind him as he flung himself headlong at the two Espers, catching them off guard, clearly not expecting a frontal assault. The buzz cut boy took a step back, while his red haired friend stepped forward, swinging his glowing hot chain at Albert's face! Albert intercepted it with his AMP glove, catching the chain and then sucking the thermal energy right out of it, so quickly the chain itself cracked and shattered from the sudden thermal differential it experienced. Swinging his right hand and the WATT glove around, Albert channeled the same amount of energy he'd just absorbed into the red haired boy's side via direct electrical , blue sparks cascading across the boy's side and hip as he collapsed backwards, twitching and shaking as if hit by a taser!

The buzz cut boy tried to kick him while he was dealing with his friend, but Albert absorbed the blow on the ERG coat and retaliated with a simple physical blow of his own, a left handed hook that caught the surprised boy in the side of the jaw, knocking him backwards and off balance. A spinning leg sweep and the boy fell to the ground on his rear, opening him up to another easy touch from the WATT which rendered the boy briefly comatose. Still crouched down, Albert looked up at the final remaining opponent, the black haired boy who was holding the girl in front of him like a human shield. "Surrender, blackguard!" Albert ordered with a confident smile. "Your friends are defeated! And you will shortly follow if you do not release that beautiful young lady!"

"Shut up! Fuck you! Stay away from me!" The black haired boy shouted back, tightening his grip on the back of the girl's neck, making her wince in pain, eye as her eyes grew large and she started making gasping noises again. "I'm a Level 2 Telekinetic! You get any closer to me, I'll crush her goddamn windpipe before you take a second step!"

"You threaten her life? This is no longer a joking matter." Albert dropped his heroic act and glared at the remaining thug, as he deployed the tesla coils on his Perpetual Dynamo, drawing for the first time in this encounter upon his stored reserves of voltaic energies rather than what he gathered from the environment. "Release her." Albert directed coldly, as electric arcs began to halo around his back and shoulders from the powering up Dynamo. "Do so and I will allow you to escape without further injury."

"Screw you! You can't touch me!" The Esper released his physical grip on the girl's neck, maintaining his telekinetic grasp on her throat as he bunched his hands into fists. "You're gonna stand there while I beat the shit out of you, freak! Move even a fingertip and I'll crush her throat!"

"Ah, an air gap." Albert said quietly, grinning a feral smile as voltaic energy blossoming in his right palm, a glowing ball of electric blue energy. "Just what I needed... Static Bolt!" He shouted, as a bolt of energy projected across the space between them, linking him to the the black haired boy, passing over the girl's shoulder without touching her. It looked more dangerous than it actually was... though it appeared to be a bolt of lightning, it was actually a diffused static charge, which spread out upon touching the Esper boy, sparks and electric crackles spreading out across his entire body. It was something a little akin to an EMP effect on a computer, except tuned for biological targets. It shorted out his nervous system, temporarily, dropping him unconscious in a heap, without the potential danger of violent muscle spasms normal electric shocks could cause, which might injure the girl by her proximity. It also shut down the brain more quickly, preventing the Esper from retailiating with his own power. However it was also very conductive, even moreso than usual electric energy, and if the boy still had the girl in his grasp, it would have affected her too.

Fortunately, with the air gap, all the bolt did was electromagnetically charge the girl's clothing briefly, no doubt provoking a somewhat ticklish sensation. Of course the polarization of the charges was more or less randomly distributed at times... which in this case resulted in her top acquiring a more or less positive charge and her skirt acquiring a mostly negative one. And as opposite magnetic poles, they had the natural effect of attracting each other. It only lasted a second or two. But that still caused the girl's skirt to flip up over her hips for a moment, completing exposing her legs and underwear to Albert's view. It was a worthy sight indeed, he noted, even as he attempted, belatedly, to turn aside as a gentleman ought. Pink and white and yellow rose patterns, quite an artistic delight really.

"KYAAAAAAHHH!" The girl screamed, her face flushing with absolute mortification as she clutched at her clothes as they returned to their normal, neutrally charged state...

xxxx

 **Five Minutes Later**

"I do not understand." Albert said, trying not to sound petulant, as he leaned against the wall of the alley and watched the Judgement girl go about securing the three unconscious Esper boys, rolling them onto their sides with their heads propped on one arm, the universal recovery position. It was not the kindess that the girl was showing her former assailants that puzzled him though. One probably wouldn't become a moral affairs officer if concern for the well being of her fellows was not uppermost in her mind at all times. And it bespoke to an admirable character he quite liked, her determination, her strength in standing up to multiple older, larger assailants, her courage in avoiding a breakdown despite the frightening things which had occured to her and threats made upon her life, and her gentle kindness as she tended to the injuries of those who had sought her harm just a short time before. No, what was perturbing him at the moment was the fact that the first thing she had done upon regaining herself from the accident with the static charge, was place him in irons, clapping a pair of high tech looking handcuffs around his gloved wrists, and telling him in no uncertain terms that he was under arrest.

Again, Albert was far from an expert on females, but this response to what he had done was especially puzzling. He had expected crying, either of relief or delayed panic. Perhaps stuttering and stammering. Maybe even rewarding him with a hug for his heroic if slightly belated intervention. Not all girls enjoyed being rescued, he figured, but this girl gave off a sense of delicacy that seemed to make it natural for those around her to want to protect her, if they had any decency at all, so he figured she probably did not hate the idea of being rescued. He certainly had not expected her to treat the criminals with kindness, and himself with suspicion. Sure, he had gotten a good glimpse under her skirt, but that was an accident... surely it did not mandate restraining him with handcuffs and telling him that he was under arrest for public indecency, much less assault and battery! "Why have you placed me under your detention?" Albert asked, frowning in confusion.

"Look, its not that I don't appreciate you stepping in to save me from whatever these boys had in mind for me." The Judgement girl replied, as she finished putting the final Esper into a more comfortable position. "But the law states that its illegal to use your Power to harm other students, so I have to detain you. If its any comfort, my report will state that the use of force was justified, especially as there doesn't seem to be any lasting harm to the miscreants involved. You'll get a note in your student file that you were involved in an incident, but it won't be a negative one. Though using your power to flip my skirt was definitely uncalled for!"

"That was unintentional. And if I'm not in any trouble, why these handcuffs?" Albert held up his bound hands demonstratively. Though the way she was talking made him uneasy. He was not a student of Academy City after all, so putting a note, good or bad, into his file would be quite tricky. And attempting to do so would probably lead to her realizing he was an illegal alien, and that was exactly what he had been hoping to avoid.

"Standard procedure." The girl replied, though she failed to meet his eyes directly as she did so. "I'm not chancing any more "unintentional" skirt flipping, thank you very much! I'm sorry if they're uncomfortable... I'll take them off once we get back to my District Office. You'll just have to bear with it until then."

"And why are they vibrating on such a random selection of frequencies?" Albert questioned, as his AMP was constantly absorbing the minor pulses of vibration, and he could not make out any sense of purpose to them. A sudden thought clicked into place in his head. He had heard of such things as this before. Though he had never expected to come across them in a situation like this. "Ah, I do perhaps begin to comprehend." Albert said carefully, eying the girl contemplatively. Perhaps the saying was true. It really was always the quiet ones who surprised you. "I had thought it strange that despite my heroic intervention, you displayed little sense of physical gratitude. My lady, this is beyond my expectations however. I assure you, a hug would have been more than sufficient... there is no need to go this far..."

"I have no idea what you're saying, but I feel like I should be offended." The girl retorted, a flush spreading across her cheeks.

"You mean that you did not place these... stimulation aids... upon my wrists as a precursor to showing me the depths of your gratitude in a way that a large portion of society finds fascinating in private but condemns in public? Not that I'm judging or anything! It's just faster and more bold than I expected. I mean, I don't even know your name and..."

"It's Uiharu Kazari, and those are NOT sex toys! They're standard issue Judgement handcuffs for use with Ability Users!" The girl, Uiharu, all but screamed, her face almost as red as it had been with her skirt flipped up. "The vibrations cause low level nerve dysfunction which interferes with the majority of concentration methods used by Espers to maintain control over their powers. It's not dangerous, it just prevents you from using your powers until I take them off. Jeez! What kind of pervert are you!? First you flip my skirt, then you accuse me of securing you with bondage toys? I ought to haul you in for public indecency!"

"Well excuse me then. I have never encountered these "power limiting" handcuffs before, so what was I supposed to think? They do not seem to be operating very efficiently either. I have noticed no drain upon my voltaic reserves. The vibration is more like a very small trickle charge really. Of course, it may just be that I am not an Esper."

"You shot lightning out of your hand." Uiharu rolled her eyes expressively. "Believe me, you're an Esper. I'm quite good friends with another Electromaster, its not anything too exotic, I assure you. Though I have never seen a... what was it.. Static Bolt, before. Given what happened, I'm not sure I want to see one again either. What level are you anyway? And whats with all that stuff you're wearing? Isn't it hot? And heavy? If it Cosplay, I don't recognize the source."

"No, my lady, I assure you quite confidently, I am no Esper. I find Espers to be fascinating in their implications, but I am not one myself. My powers draw upon the Principle of Ostentatious Energetic Multiplication. And the Magnetic Discombobulation Rule, that one is very important. I've also experimented in Energetic Agitation Theory... I'm well known for that where I'm from. Rather too well known for my own tastes at times. As for my equipment, it is all necessary gear, designed and invented by yours truly, in order to properly utilize my theorems and channel my power." Albert said with absolute dignity.

"Ah, so your Personal Reality is one of the more... special ones... I see." Uiharu replied, caughing for a moment and somehow the word "delusional" seemed to get mixed up in it in the process. "And I've heard of Espers using physical tools to help them focus their power... but I've never seen such elaborate items before. Oh, that reminds me... what is your name, and where do you go to school?"

"I am Albert Nikola Joule." Albert dipped his head in a slight bow, as he believed the customs were in these parts, buying time to think of a clever answer to the other part of her question. "And I'm... uh... home schooled, yes. Home schooled up until recently, that is. I'm due to transfer to a school somewhere... sometime... I don't remember which though. But again, I must stress that I am not an Esper. My lightning, as you called it, is a visible product of the use of voltaic energy along the principles laid out in my theory of the Laws of Aetheric Expulsion."

"Ah, a foreign exchange student, that makes more sense now. Though its odd to be transferring in during the middle of the school term. Well don't worry, I'll look up your immigration information at the office, and we'll get this all cleared up." Uiharu replied with a smile that lit up her face. "Let me just call this in to Anti-Skill for pickup of these delinquents and we can be on our way."

"I would greatly prefer if you did not involve Anti-Skill..." Albert felt alarmed, as now she was talking about bringing in the actual armed police force of the city. "Can I not just be on my way, please? As gratitude for saving you from an unwholesome experience at the hands of these thugs?"

"Contacting Anti-Skill is procedure. And you're acting awfully nervous for a law abiding citizen. Am I going to find nasty things on your record when I look you up? A history of flipping girl's skirts perhaps?" Uiharu inquired with a glare. "And if you don't call yourself an Esper, what are you then? I guess the least I can do is refer to you by your preferred nomenclature, given your assistance earlier."

"I am a Magitechnological Innovator, of course! And I assure you, there is nothing to be found in my records. I'll just be on my way, if you don't mind. Don't worry about the handcuffs, I can remove them easily enough myself..." Albert started sidling away.

"Stop right there!" Uiharu stepped forward and grabbed him by the elbow. "I've done my best to be patient with you, but now you appear to be trying to flee the scene. And you can try all you want, you WON'T get those handcuffs off without my help or Anti-Skill. And you won't get far without your Power, I assure you, not in this City."

"Look, Uiharu-San, I've been trying to be patient with you as well, but I really must insist on leaving. This has been a fun conversation, but I have my own reasons for not wanting to get involved with Anti-Skill. As for these handcuffs and my Power... look..." Albert flipped his WATT palm up and touched a finger to Uiharu's wrist, channeling a mere fraction of the same power he'd used to dsable the Telekinetic Esper... just enough to tickle her skin really, as the electrostatic charge propogated across her body. "Static Cling." Albert said, unable to resist making a bold statement, as the tickle charge interacted with the still faint charges on her clothes, re-energizing them and once more flipping her skirt up over her hips. The view was just as fine this time around as the first time.

"KYAAAHHHH!?" Uiharu screamed in dismay and outrage as she was unwillingly exposed once more, pushing at her clothes in dismay and mortification, but with the constantly maintained charge, every time she pushed her skirt down, it immediately flew back up again. "YOU PERVERT! STOP THIS! NOOOOO!"

"So you admit I am not an Esper then, just to be sure we're on the same page?" Albert asked, in confirmation.

"YES! YES, YOU'RE NOT AN ESPER! NOW GIVE ME CONTROL OF MY SKIRT BACK!"

"As easily said as done." Albert stopped the tickle charge and removed his finger, allowing her to step back as her skirt once more settled around her knees where it belonged. "Now can we remove these useless handcuffs and allow me to be on my way?"

"Fat chance of that! I'm arresting you for sexual assault! You... you molester!" Uiharu screeched, red in the face as she pointed at him accusingly.

"Hey now, let's not get nasty. Is that any way to speak to a guy who saved you from a beating? I was just making a point, in a way I knew you would find convincing." Albert blushed a little in recollection. She was pretty cute after all. And her panties moreso. "And stop going on about arresting me. You don't have just cause, and I'm not going to let you anyway. Politeness only takes us so far. You can either remove these handcuffs, or I will break them. It would pain me to destroy the possessions of such a cute and brave girl as yourself, but if pushed, I will do so. I am not even a resident of this City, I'm just passing through on a research project of my own, and I saw you were in trouble, and I decided I couldn't let you be assaulted by those delinquents, so can we please just leave it at that? A mysterious and handsome stranger came to your aid and then disappeared before you could properly thank him? Pretty please?"

"I am afraid I cannot do that. I am a member of Judgement, and sworn to uphold the laws of this city for the protection of its residents, and any visitors." Uiharu replied seriously. "If you attempt to escape, I will attempt to stop you. Given what I have seen of your power, and especially given its apparent non-Esper origins, I doubt I can stop you. But I will force you to render me physically incapacitated, rather than simply allow you to flee the scene. All the moreso if you are a tourist... though given how nervous and confrontational you are, I get the feeling you didn't exactly enter the city through Customs, did you? Just you being here at all is a huge security breach... but you did save me from a beating and who knows what else they had in mind. Even if you did it in a very perverted way. And you didn't have to intervene, especially if you're not here legally... the smart thing to do would have been to turn your back and leave me to my problems. But you came to my rescue, and I guess that should count for something." Uiharu took a deep breath, as if forcing herself to come to peace with a decision.

"So here is what we'll do. If I can assure myself through interactions and observations with you, that you are NOT a bad person, and not a threat to the City or its people, then I will mention you in my report as only a mysterious and handsome stranger, and that will be the end of it. You will accompany me until the end of my patrol route today, and I will make up my mind then. I will remove the handcuffs, as they would draw attention otherwise... more attention than your getup does on its own anyway. But if you attempt to escape from me, if you ditch me, or display intentions or behavior that I find threatening, overly suspicious or potentially harmful to those around us, or commit any crimes, no matter how minor, I'll be on the phone to Anti-Skill with your name and description in a heartbeat, and you'll be the focus of a city-wide manhunt in no time at all. With the heightened protocols in effect after that terrorist attack a couple days ago, I doubt it would take the authorities long to find you if they were actively searching, and they would not be gentle about taking you into custody if you did not surrender immediately." Uiharu explained in no nonsense tones.

"That sounds workable. So I will accompany you for conversation and mutual observation for the remainder of the day then?" Albert paused for a moment, and thought about it. "Though if you wanted to ask me out on a date as thanks for saving you, you need not go about it in such a convoluted..."

"I'm calling Anti-Skill."

"NO! I was joking! Please, forgive me!"

xxxx

 **Around Lunchtime, Uiharu's Patrol Route**

Uiharu Kazari was somewhat used to weird occurences and unexpected encounters, both from her duties in Judgement and her extracurricular activites within her own friend circle. Heck, just being a student of Academy City, an Esper, put her life in a non-standard category by the view of the wider world beyond Academy City. Still, today had been a stand out day in terms of weirdness so far. Not the weirdest she'd ever had... that dubious honor might have to go to the AIM Burst beast she'd encountered during the height of the Level Upper Incident... but pretty far up the scale all the same. It had started normally enough... she and most of the rest of Judgement were on heightened alert in the wake of the terror attack outside the School Garden at the end of September. Though casualties had been blessedly light, thanks mostly to Misaka and Shirai's presence, as well as some minor assistance from other bystanders, including a member of ACME, the city had been rocked by the attack occuring in the first place. No one yet knew why the terrorists had attempted to hijack a tram, or what they had intended to do with all those heavy weapons they'd brought, but it didn't look good. As bad as it was, without Misaka heading it off, it could have been a lot worse!

Misaka seemed to be depressed about not being able to completely save everyone, but that was Misaka for you. Even a Level 5 had limits after all, but Misaka always held herself to the highest standards, unforgivably high standards really, and it was just a testament to how amazing Misaka Mikoto really was that she so often managed to meet those standards regardless of what life threw at her. That she had not this time was no failure, not to Uiharu or anyone else but Misaka herself. Alas, telling her that was difficult, but hopefully when the four of them got together again after Uiharu's shift at Judgement today, they'd be able to help her cheer up and get a proper perspective on things again. In the meanwhile, Uiharu was being kept very busy with Judgement work, to the point where she had even been given special permission off from school to help with the Alert precautions today. Civil Awareness was being pushed to its highest degree, and Judgement was out prowling the streets and back corners of the City in force, looking for any signs of suspicious persons or activities.

They were supposed to be doing it in teams of two or three, but that wasn't an option for the 177th Branch. Konori was off doing administrative and coordination work with the other local branch heads, and they'd always been a relatively short handed branch, but able to make up for it because they had Shirai, a Level 4 teleporter, who could easily cover a patrol area meant for a half a dozen slower students by herself, along with Uiharu helping out with command and control and remote observation from her computer setup. But Shirai was still tapped as a City Guide for the ACME delegation, and that superseded all other responsibilities, including Judgement work. Shirai was on call as a Guide for today, and that left Uiharu doing most of the work for the 177th Branch by herself. Not technically the smart thing to do, but she had been making it work, telecommuting with her phone to her computers at the office to do paperwork while strolling about her patrol route. But then she had seen a trio of suspicious figures diappearing into an alleyway, and had of course pursued them in the name of Judgement. They had only been students after all, so she felt confident enough that she could handle the situation on her own. Though perhaps she should have hacked a security robot or two for backup, as things turned out.

As a Judgement Officer, Uiharu was well trained in hand to hand combat, usually in a defensive or incapacitating capacity, but being outnumbered three to one in the tight quarters of the alley definitely put her at a disadvantage, even before Esper abilities came into play. Uiharu did not consider herself especially strong... just the opposite really. But with her friends all doing other important things, she had been determined to handle herself for at least one day! And had then gotten in over her head in short order, and had been in trouble of at least a beating, and potentially much worse, at the hands of the three truant boys. And then, completely unexpectedly, she had been saved, by the extremely weird young man currently ambling along the streets at her side, completely unselfconscious about his odd appearance. Albert Nikola Joule... definitely a foreign name, and he was clearly not Japanese. A "tourist" in the City, though almost certainly an undocumented one. He was technically commiting crimes simply by walking around in the city without proper papers, but she had set that aside for the time being, both because she disdained thoughtless bureaucracy, despite her love of following procedures, and because he had saved her from a bad spot, when he didn't have to, and would have been better served himself to simply move on.

He was taller than her by several inches, probably a year or two older, early highschool age about, with caucasian pale skin and a build that while difficult to make out under his bulker garments, seemed to be at least on the healthy side, if not really athletic or muscular. He had freckles across his nose and cheeks, and a perpetually boyish and excited expression on his face, lively and joyous, though easily distracted and prone to long thoughtful silences broken by periods of rapid fire pontification on whatever happened to have caught his interest at the moment. His hair was a wonder, dyed bright electric blue and slicked back in large spikes, like something out of an anime, standing up at slight angles off his head, adding several inches to his apparent height. His clothing was like nothing she'd seen outside of movies... heavy ankle length coat, thick boots and gloves, and everything with buckles and buttons and straps and bare metallic wires going everywhere... and that boxy looking backpack on his back, what was up with that? The goggles on his head at least looked a little practical, like really retro sunglasses of some sort, but the rest of it was just plain weird!

Oddball appearance aside, he seemed polite and friendly, though Uiharu wasn't too sure about his sense of humor. And he definitely had a bad habit of taking some things she said or did in completely the most embarrassing way, such as confusing her Judgement Handcuffs for a sex toy, or thinking she was asking him out on a date rather than keeping him under her thumb for observation! Not to mention the skirt flipping! She had not yet decided if that was cultural gap... his Japanese was almost flawless, but he was a foreigner, so cultural mistakes were to be expected... or if he was intentionally teasing her. If the former, all she could do was tolerate it. If the latter... well, that left her feeling a bit more confused. On the one hand it was mortifying, the only saving grace being that most of it had happened in the back alley where no one had witnessed it but him. On the other, well, he was not unhandsome, and he had saved her in a bad spot, and was teasing her in a very casual manner... and no boy had ever done that with her before, and she found she didn't entirely hate it, as a whole.

Her stomach growled at her, and so she directed her steps towards a nearby crepe stand, and was pleasantly surprised to have Albert volunteer to pay for both of them. She had not expected him to be overly well equipped with money, given his illegitimate presence in the city, but then again, if he was living off the streets, he must have some way of procuring food for himself. He didn't seem to be stealing it anyway. They found a table in the shade on the street, and sat down on opposite sides, Albert drawing out her chair for her politely, and then taking a significant amount of time unbuckling and unstrapping his backpack, and setting it down beside the table, but with great care all the same. It was clearly of great importance to him, whatever it was. Uiharu had to work hard to keep a straight face and not giggle as he opened one of his many coat pouches, withdrawing a large handkerchief, which he tucked with great dignity into the high collar of his coat to serve as a bib to protect it from drips from his crepe. He was definitely an oddball, but it was a charming sort of weird, like he was using mannerisms from the past, simply because he enjoyed them and felt they made sense to him. He had revealed earlier that he was from America, but he definitely did not fit the stereotypes she had in her mind of that place.

"So what do you think of Academy City so far, Joule-san?" Uiharu asked after a few bites of her cream and chocolate and caramel and strawberry crepe. Uiharu always went for sweet things if she had the option, even as she knew it wasn't good for her.

"To be honest? I expected more of it." Albert replied, carefully chewing and swallowing his cheese and ham and pepper crepe. "I originally came here because Academy City is supposed to be twenty to thirty years ahead of the rest of the world, technologically speaking. But I cannot say I have seen that, in my experience. The city is a little cleaner, the cell phones everyone enjoys so much seem a little more compact, there are self driving cars and buses... but mostly this City is not that different from any back home. I have been particularly disappointed in the lack of high tech materials science. Academy City was so hyped up in my mind, I guess I just wasn't prepared for its true banality..."

"I guess most of the real advanced technology is involved with the Esper development programs." Uiharu said, thinking about it. "I mean, we have the security and cleaning robots of course, and Anti-Skill and other groups have the Powered Suits, but most of the really cool stuff is connected to various research institutes from what I understand." She paused and gave him a significant look. "Which YOU should stay well away from. You're not supposed to be here at all, if they find out you're snooping around research institutes, the city authorities would NOT be happy."

"It's not like I'm here to steal things. I came as a potential customer, willing to pay good value for whatever I found that met my criteria." Albert answered, adopting a hurt expression for a moment. "At first I really could have cared less about the Espers of this city... I'm interested in metals, not people." He paused and took another bite of his crepe, chewing and swallowing before dabbing at his lips with his personal napkin, and then going on. "Though I'll admit, after interacting with a few of you Espers, my interest in you has grown. I can't comprehend how your powers work... they're nothing like my own abilities, and I consider myself quite the scientist, if in nonconventional fields of study."

"Well I'm not the greatest expert, I'm only a Level 1 after all, but basically speaking, the Esper Power Development program makes use of quantum mechanics principles in conjunction with perception altering treatments such as hypnosis, drugs and the like, to help the recipient create their own Personal Reality, which grants them an AIM field and enables their unique Esper powers. One way I heard it explained to me that I liked, was likening it to the Schrodinger cat experiment? Have you heard of that? Its a bit morbid of course."

"I know of it. The cats in boxes guy, with poison gas. Never really liked that much. The voltaic sciences have had biological interaction possibilities in the past, but I prefer not to get involved with reanimation studies or animal experiments, it never ends well." Albert frowned for a moment.

"Well, anyway..." Uiharu didn't know what sort of tangent he was going on about, but decided to press on. "Basically an Esper is a person who can choose the outcome of the Schrodinger Cat experiment... either alive, dead, or sometimes something entirely different... that's what a Personal Reality is. Regardless of what the actual result of the experiment is, the Esper can cause their own personal experience of it to conform to their own expectations, and then those expectations are transmitted into the wider World Reality, as the Esper powers everyone knows of."

"Ah. So Esper sciences are, at their more basic level, sciences of the brain and our perceptions of the world around us then? I had always considered those the softer, less rigorous branches of science. I was clearly wrong there." Albert said in impressed tones. "That is well outside my own fields of study, I am afraid, but fascinating all the same. You said you are an Esper, Uiharu-san? What sort are you? Does your power have anything to do with how you handled that glowing hot metal ruler earlier without damaging your fair skin?"

"I'm just a Level 1. That puts me right at the bottom of the power scale... only Level 0's, those who have no discernable power even after going through the treatments, are below me. The power scale goes all the way up to Level 5, and its really more like an exponentional or even logarithmic scale, rather than a simple geometric one. A Level 5 is thousands, maybe even millions of times stronger and more expert in the use of their abilities than a Level 1. As for my power, your surmise is correct. My ability is called Thermal Hand. I can maintain the temperature of a small object, or my hand, so that its temperature is held constant regardless of outside influences, at least for a time. Not too high of temperatures, only a couple thousand degrees celsius at the top end, but I could grab a glowing hot piece of metal, in most cases, without harm. Or keep my ice cream from melting until I eat it all, even on hot summer days. Or prevent my computer hard drive and motherboard from overheating even when I overclock its performance. Small things like that, not really all that useful..." Uiharu shrugged self consciously. She knew she wasn't that special, but at least she had a power, unlike her best friend Saten.

Albert seemed to disagree with her personal assessment, as a piece of crepe dropped out of his wide open mouth and tumbled unnoticed down the front of his jacket into his lap, as he stared at her with wide eyes and gaping jaw. "Y-y-you... you... you..." He stammered, his brain clearly suffering some overclocking of its own. "You can mess with the ENTROPY of an object and you consider this a MINOR power?"

"Uh what?" Uiharu was confused by this response. "I didn't say anything about entropy. I can just maintain the temperature of objects or my hand, regardless of outside interference."

"W-wh-which is what entropy is involved in! The total amount of work an object or system has within it is defined by its entropy, and in all non-perfect systems, it can only increase over time as work potential is lost as waste heat! If you can really prevent an object from experiencing any temperature change, regardless of outside factors, even for a short time, you are effectively pausing that object's entropy... which in turn effectively means no time is passing for that object! More importantly this allows the bypassing of the second law of thermodynamics! Do you have any idea what this MEANS?!" Albert bolted half upright in his chair, crepe forgotten and discarded on the ground, almost reaching out to grab Uiharu, but remembering himself at the last moment and settling back into his chair.

"Um. I don't know why you're getting so excited, but could you try to calm down? You're causing a scene..." Uiharu asked, flushing as she felt the stares of passerby on them. "My power really isn't as special as you seem to think it is. Its a minor convenience, not anything cool. There are much, much more amazing powers in this city."

"I refuse to believe that! I cannot imagine anything more amazing than this! You... you are the answer to all of my prayers!" Albert stared at her like she was suddenly made of pure gold. It was a little uncomfortable really. She didn't, in principle, mind being the object of attention of a boy, but this was something entirely different, and it was creeping her out a little. Albert seemed to realize this, belatedly, and he took obvious effort to calm himself down, looking aside until he regained his composure. "Look, Uiharu-san, my own personal dream, the reason I came here to Academy City, is because I'm building a perpetual motion energy generation device, which once I perfect it, will provide unlimited, completely clean energy to the whole world once mass produced. I've been able to produce a dynamo design capable of perpetual motion, however its the materials engineering side of things that is now the problem. In simple terms, heat constantly builds up during the operation of the dynamo... eventually, especially under maximum energy generation mode, the dynamo will melt or blow up, very explosively. I've tried every metal you can name and probably alloys you have no idea exist. And they are all inadequate. Eventually they all fail. Eventually so much entropy is deposited onto them by the dynamo motion that they simply cannot bear it and fly apart in pure waste heat."

"I came to Academy City hoping for some new super metal or other material on which to experiment, but so far I have come up with nothing that is not just a small and incremental increase in effectiveness over what I already have been using. But you... your power... your power changes EVERYTHING! You can prevent the temperature change of objects! You can prevent the transfer of Entropy from one system to another! With your help, with your power, ANY material could be used to create my Perpetual Dynamos! I could build for cost and resource effectiveness, for reduzed size and weight, rather than being forced to consider heat stress capacity as my foremost concern! Pardon my excitement, my dear lady, but you cannot imagine what this revolutionizes for me..." Albert sat back in his chair, almost panting and shaking with excitement.

"Um. I really don't think my power works the way you think it does. But I guess I'm happy you're excited? I'm not sure how much help I can be though. I mean, I have my own life to take care, and I'm pretty busy. And I only barely understand my power, and I've been working on it for years now, without any real sign of improvement. Even if I COULD do what you think I can do, I'm pretty sure I can't do it in any way that would be helpful outside a lab environment... not as a Level 1." Uiharu cast her eyes down for a moment as she struggled with her sense of frustration. She'd made it to Level 1 in a matter of months after coming to Academy City, but had been stalled there ever since... and she didn't know what else she could do to advance anymore! She was so envious of Misaka, who had advanced from Level 1 to Level 5 in just a few years, never delayed for too long, despite knowing that it was accomplished only with great effort. Misaka was an amazing person... and Uiharu just wasn't amazing in the same sort of way.

"That is a thing I do not understand." Albert replied with a furrowed brow. "As I understand it, Esper powers come about largely through self belief, through believing something will happen so hard that it does, even in defiance of normal causal reality. It's very much like faith, though in yourself, rather than a divine power, producing your own miracles of belief on command. And while I have not known you too long, Uiharu-san, I can tell that you have very strong self belief... you would not have confronted those truants in the alley by yourself otherwise. If you have been working for years with this kind of effort, I cannot understand why your power won't grow any further? Are Esper powers limited upon inception or something? Is it predetermined how high your Level can go?"

"Not at all! Esper powers can be improved through hard work. It's completely a meritocracy here in Academy City! Everyone gets the same exact treatments and resources, and those with the drive and the talent to succeed, will succeed! One of my closest friends started out as a Level 1, and worked her way all the way to Level 5!" Uiharu gushed with pride for her friend.

"If you say so. You are the Esper after all. But I maintain that it does not make sense. Scientifically, it does not make sense. If this process can bring one person to Level 5, then it should be able to bring all people to Level 5, if it's the same for everyone. Human brains can be individually different to some degree, but not that much, surely! It should be like building muscle, by the way you describe it. Take the right supplements, follow the right exercises, put in the required effort, and your muscles will improve. Some may improve more than others, but everyone should gain muscle, and everyone should eventually be able to reach arbitrarily set points for muscle development, even if its not particularly healthy for some to do. The way you describe it though, it sounds like you're doing everything right, taking the supplements, doing the exercises, putting in the effort, but your muscles aren't developing, or even degrading, simply staying stagnant... and that's impossible. Also, your power if developed more fully promises to revolutionise the world... I can't understand why more isn't being done to help you progress..."

"Perhaps I am improving, just in such small amounts that its imperceptible? And all that can be done is being done. Remember, the process is the same for everyone. That's one of the foundations of Academy City, that everyone gets the same resources, the same program. It wouldn't exactly be a good experiment if some subjects got unfair advantages after all, and this City is all one big constantly improving experiment." Uiharu sighed. "Look, can we talk about something else? I deal with this all the time on my own, and while I appreciate your attempts to figure out why I'm so inadequate, despite having the exact same opportunities as everyone else, it really doesn't make me feel good to talk about it."

"Oh, of course. I have been rude, forgive me." Albert accepted her desire for a change of topic, though from the look he gave her, Uiharu could tell he was still chewing the matter over in his head. Well, she couldn't help that, and lunch was over now, so it was time to get back on patrol.

xxxx

 **Later that day, approaching early evening**

"So have you made up your mind about me yet?" Albert asked, as they walked along the grass and clover strewn banks of an aqueduct channel, some hours later. The sun was heading towards the horizon, and the temperature was becoming more chill, though inside his ERG jacket he was still completely comfortable, and would still be in much more adverse weather than this. Uiharu did not seem bothered by the cold, even in her skirt and short sleeves, so either she was just inured to it, faking it well, or her power was helping her a little bit. They were the only ones around at the moment, most of the other people around having headed home or out to dinner or various indoor places after school let out and clubs were done with. "Am I one of the good guys or am I a villain in disguise?"

"My shift isn't over yet." Uiharu responded primly, though she was unable to entirely hide a small grin at the way he pouted. In truth, she wouldn't have kept him around the whole day with her if she had felt he was going to turn out to be a bad guy in the end. She had a fairly reliable sense for people... it had guided her to be friends with Shirai, Saten and Misaka after all, and that had turned out so well. Of course it wasn't perfect... she'd really liked Kiyama at first, only to find out she was the cause of the Level Upper problem... though in retrospect, given what she'd learned later, Kiyama had really been one of the good guys all along, just one who lost her way and resorted to extreme and unpleasant methods trying to do what was right. Therestina then. She'd trusted Therestina to help them with the Child Errors, and all along the woman had been planning to sacrifice their lives to produce some sort of weird ability boosting drug or something! But generally speaking, she had a sense for people, which were bad, which were good.

And her sense for Albert Nikola Joule was that he was good. Eccentric almost to the point of self parody, perhaps a bit delusional, and not possessed of the greatest social graces in all situations... though he did at least try... but definitely not a bad person. And he was an interesting conversationalist, having experienced so much more of the wider world than she had, and able to vividly talk about it, especially America, across which he had apparently traveled extensively. She got the feeling he was self editing and censoring some of the stories he was telling her, leaving out details here and there, but never got the sense he was doing it out of malice or intent to deceive her about himself, more like embarrassment, or because he didn't want her to worry about things she had no control over. And he was good company, willing to listen to her talk about her daily life and some of her stories about Academy City, with the same attentiveness he gave to anything which caught his interest. She got the strong impression that he was very, very intelligent, though perhaps somewhere on the autistic spectrum as well, given his eccentricities, though he clearly managed himself well despite that. He was extremely well versed in all the science and math subjects she brought up, to the point of making her feel quite a dunce in comparison, but he did his best not to rub her face in it at least. With the exception of Computer Sciences, which he seemed to have absolutely no taste for.

He wasn't a luddite, didn't hate technology, and his powers were definitely electrically based in some way, which had great applications with modern technology... but he was awkward with it all the same. Tenative, poking at touch screens like he didn't quite know what to make of them, and regarding interactive video screens with quasi-AI programs as if they were beyond comprehension. He got along fine with electricity, but anything digital seemed to leave him cold and dry, lost and confused, and not particularly interested, no matter how amazing its applications were. He didn't even own a cell phone, which Uiharu had previously considered impossible for anyone in her generation who lived in a First World nation, and didn't seem interested in acquiring one, even more strange. His mannerisms at times reminded her of someone out of a Jules Verne novel, turn of the last century science fiction, a comparison which he apparently found extremely flattering, actually.

His outfit made her feel like she was walking around being escorted by a video game character for the day, but she had friends and acquaintances at school with Cosplaying obsessions, and didn't even mind a little dress up herself on the right occasions, so it was less onerous than she'd felt it would be initially. He got plenty of strange looks from everyone else, but either did not notice or did not care, which Uiharu found pleasant. Self confidence and self possession were attractive qualities in a boy, in her opinion. Which of course caused her cheeks to flush when she had thought it, wondering if she was subconsciously assessing him in a romantic light! Uiharu eventually decided that if she was, it wasn't intentional, just the byproduct of being at that age, that part of her teenage experience, when she could not help but assess boys in such a fashion if they spent too much time around her. She did not have a boyfriend obviously, and while she kinda wanted one, it was an abstract sort of desire, an idle dream, rather than an urge to actually go out looking for one. Plus, she was sure she wasn't even the sort of girl that boys looked at twice anyway... there was nothing special or exciting about her.

She was also gladdened that he did not seem to regard the greater portion of her Judgement duties, which involved cleaning up trash, finding lost possessions, giving directions to confused passerby, and watching over playing children to ensure they weren't doing anything dangerous, to be boring or pointless work. She had joined Judgement to make a difference in people's lives every day, and while that could be done by catching criminals or investigating mysteries, Uiharu personally found it to be most satisfying when it was the small, every day things. Helping people out when they had a problem, or watching over the innocent so they could enjoy their lives freely. Picking up trash was annoying, especially when people littered right in front of her like it was no big deal, but even that was an act of beautifying the city she called home, the city she loved, and thus worth doing. If anything, she got the feeling that he was enjoying himself as much as she was, and she admired that he was willing to pitch in with some of the tasks, especially the picking up trash, without being prompted or acting like it was beneath him.

"Tell me again about your power, Joule-san." Uiharu prompted, stopping to stare out across the peacefully flowing water. "I accepted this morning that you're not an Esper, at least not any sort of Esper I can think of. Are you a Gemstone? I've heard their powers can work in very weird ways."

"No, my powers are entirely self taught and learned, not anything inherent to me. Anyone could learn to use my abilities, once they understood my formulas. That is my great hope after all... that once I perfect the formula for the Perpetual Dynamo, in both theory and practical applications, that anyone and everyone will be able to make use of it once they understand it." Albert paused for a long moment, before continuing, speaking somewhat softer. "Personally I detest this terminology, but it's what most people would use when explaining my powers. I am a practioner of Magic... Magitechnology to be precise. I harness the power of the Aetheric Winds to generate and refine voltaic energies to be used for various purposes. I suppose you might call my speciality that of an Artificer, or producer of Magical Tools. I can use certain normal spells if pressed, but my power lies within the Artifacts I create for myself. My coat, my gloves, my boots, my googles, even the Perpetual Dynamo in my backpack, they're all Artifacts I have painstakingly built with much trial and error, infusing with my personal energies, in order to make use of Voltaics and Aether to produce my spell effects. I prefer to call it Alternate Science though."

"I admit, I understood precisely none of that." Uiharu said after a brief contemplation. "You don't believe that Magic actually exists, do you? I mean, come on..."

"I believe the evidence of my eyes and my past experiences at least. Is it so hard to believe that Magic exists, Ms. Esper? Have you ever definitely proved that it can't exist?" Albert replied, a trifle sharply.

"Well, I guess not. But really, Magic? I mean, Esper powers are a scientific fact. We have evidence, copious evidence, of how they work and that they exist. Documented, recorded, hard data! Magic on the other hand... no one has ever proved it, or defined it, or even demonstrated it. There's no evidence of it! Magic is just a dream of those who don't have the power to change the world the way they want it to."

"Very true words, those last ones. I could hardly define it better myself. Magic is the dream of those who find the world to be broken, and have learned old and secret ways to try and fix it. You Espers believe in yourselves enough to affect your interactions with reality. Magicians believe in their formulas and incantations enough to cause them to affect reality. Both expressions of faith, just done differently. At least, thats how I feel about it. As far as I can tell, the main difference between Espers and Magicians is that ANYONE can be a Mage if they learn the right formulas and maintain belief in them... while as the existence of Level 0's seem to say, NOT everyone can be an Esper, assuming the program really is as fair and balanced for everyone as you say it is." Albert said challengingly.

"Let's not bring that up again." Uiharu warned him, crossing her arms over her chest in a gesture of negation. "But really, how do you expect me to believe in Magic? I guess it would be nice if Magic existed... Magic can do anything after all, right, regardless of physical law..."

"Not absolutely anything, but generally yes it can ignore the majority of physical laws. I'm still limited by a few in my own spells and effects obviously, or I would not have gotten so excited about your own Power earlier. As for believing in it, what about a demonstration? Surely if you witness it with your own eyes, you must accept it?"

"Um, sure. What, are you going to pull a rabbit out of your pocket or something?"

"Matter creation is not something I've ever been good at, and living matter especially. If I attempted something like that, what came out of my pocket would be, at best, an abomination upon the laws of physical biology. If we were lucky. It could be considerably worse than that." Albert replied matter of factly. "No, I was thinking something else. I could just display the properties of my own Artifacts of course, but I get the feeling that you would explain that away with Esper logic or as manifestations of technology. But I have an idea regarding that. My Artifacts are designed for my own use obviously... but that doesn't mean other people CAN'T use them." Albert reached up and removed his AIM goggles, disconnecting them completely from his Dynamo backpack. "The wires help with modulating and controlling the voltaic energies it uses, but aren't necessary to actually power the device. It doens't even use power, in the way you would think of electrical potential being used." He tossed the goggles to Uiharu, who bobbled them a moment before catching them. "Inspect them. Feel free to poke and pry a bit... they won't break, I promise. Get a good look at them, and tell me what you discover."

"Okay..." Uiharu drew out the word slowly, as she turned the goggles over and over in her hands. They were surprisingly heavy, seemingly constructed of iron and copper and bronze and several other metals she wasn't familiar with, as well as hard wearing leather for the straps and fittings. The lenses appeared to be made of glass of some sort, though it tingled oddly on her fingertips when she touched it. There were compartments and hatch like covers on parts of the goggle, and with some work, Uiharu managed to get a fingernail into one such latch, opening up the compartment it covered. What she saw within fascinated her... it was clockwork! Gears and levers and cogtooth wheels, wires and springs, all of it incredably miniaturized, like the inside of some fantastically expensive analog watch. All of it in slow, deliberate motion, ticking over despite the lack of any motive or powering force she could discern. There was something odd about the interior of the compartment as well... it must have been some sort of trick of pespective, but it seemed deeper than the depth of the goggles could allow. Like there was more stuff packed in there, than really should fit in such a space. It made her a little dizzy after a moment or two, and she had to look away.

"They appear to be steampunk goggles of some sort. I can't make heads or tails of what all the clockwork does, though it sure is pretty to watch. I can't believe you made this... by hand? Its incredible craftsmanship." Uiharu reported, drawing a pleased smile from Albert.

"Why thank you, Uiharu-san, you are most gracious. Now put them on, if you please, and then look down at your hands." Albert instructed. Uiharu slowly complied, taking a few moments to get the straps adjusted around her head, before settling the goggles down across her eyes. They didn't fit very wel clearly customized for Albert's face and head structure, but it wasn't impossible to see through. The smokey lenses of the goggles turned the world extremely dark, almost blacked out rally, yet she could somehow still see the outlines of objects, such as the nearby bridge, and the water in the aqueduct. She canted her head down, feeling that sense of dizziness again, but struggling through it, as she glanced at her hands and sucked in a sharp breath of wonder and confusion.

"My... my hands... I can see through them... and they're full of green sparks! And some weird grey wave thingies... what is this!?" Uiharu asked breathlessly.

"You are seeing the flow of biolectricity through your body. Green is the hue of life, and so the sparks appear green. As for the gray waves, I believe they're that special energy field you Espers produced, the AIM Diffusion, I think its called, right?" ALbert informed her with a grin.

"That's impossible. We know AIM Diffusion fields exist, because we can measure them with specialized equipment... but they've never been visualized before!" Uiharu felt the dizziness grow stronger, but forced it down, too amazed by what she was seeing to let a little nausea stop her.

"You think that's cool, take a look at me." Albert invited her, and Uiharu complied... before staggering, nearly falling backwards into the river before regaining her balance, shaking her head and clutching her hands to her temples.

"Gah! You're... you're so bright! I can see the green sparks, but there's so many other colors around you, especially in your clothes... like a prismatic... aurora..." Uiharu swayed almost drunkenly as she took in the wealth of things to see.

"That aurora, as you call it, is the energy field that Masters of Aetheric Generation and Explusion... aka Mages... produce through training in the Magical arts. Its the manifestion of our belief in our Magic, just as the greyscale waveforms you have are the manifestion of your belief in your Esper power. Or so I theorize anyway. You can see that it is concentrated in my Artifacts, but present all around and through me."

"Yes, it appears... ugh... ouch..." Uiharu lifted the goggles from her eyes, feeling a pounding headache start to set in. "That smarts. How can you stand to look through these things? Your head must be killing you constantly."

"That's not right... there should be no side effects to using Aetheric Identification and Marking goggles. I have never experiencing the slightest pain in using them. Give them back, let me see them."

"Sure, fine... I think I'm gonna sit down for a moment, ok? My head is spinning, and I have a pounding headache..." Uiharu complained, handing the goggles off, and crouching down, hugging her knees. Her nose twitched, and she touched a finger to her face, and was shocked to discover she had developed a sudden nosebleed! "Ah, tissue, tissue..." She scrabbled in her pockets before finding something to use to stop up the trickle of blood. It wasn't bad, but she couldn't understand where it had come from.

For his part, Albert quickly donned and reconnected the goggles, checking his calibrations, and finding them unchanged. He slipped them down over his eyes, and felt no dizziness or pain. Glancing over at Uiharu, he paused, and his grin left his mouth and beacme a hard line of displeasure instead. "I believe I see the issue. The aurora of the goggles interacted with the AIM diffusion field around your head, and the two expressions of energy do not seem to coexist in a stable fashion. It was starting to mess with your flow of bioelectricity, thus the headaches, and the nose bleed. How unexpected, and annoying. I'm sorry, Uiharu-san, I did not know this would occur. But it appears it is not safe for you to use Magic, even in Artifact form."

"I'm still not sure I believe in Magic." Uiharu replied nasally, tissued stuffed under her nose. "Those goggles could have been programmed to show me the things they did. Or maybe microscopic etchings on the lenses, filtering the light and inducing an optical illusion of some sort. That could also explain the disorientation, which could have led to brain stress and increased bloodflow to my nasal regions, and eventually the nosebleed."

"Programmed? They're completely mechanical, as is all my gear. I don't trust digital stuff. Its not... real enough... for me." Albert protested.

"Not all computers need to be digital. There exist purely mechanical calculating machines, sufficiently complex versions might be able to mimic the effects of certain digital items." Uiharu shook her head. "No, sorry, Joule-san. That was definitely an... interesting experience. But definitive proof of Magic? That it was not. That effect could have been generated in other ways."

"You are a very skeptical girl." Albert said, with a crooked smile. "So hard to please..."

"Real magic should easily defeat even the most skeptical of observers." Uiharu replied with a grin, still holding the tissue to her face. "Got any other tricks up those long sleeves of your... oh my god, the time! I'm gonna be late! I gotta get going, Joule-san! I have places to be!" Uiharu rose to her feet, her head feeling much better after the short rest. "I will officially concede that you are not a bad guy, Joule-san. Just don't flip my skirt up anymore. Having one friend who does that is MORE than enough for me! I won't include you in my report to Anti-Skill, but you have to stay out of trouble, ok? I can't protect you if other people discover you're here illegally. Thank you for spending the day with me, I appreciated it, and enjoyed it." Uiharu bowed at the waist in gratitude, before turning and almost sprinting away. "Maybe let's do this again sometime!?" She called back, waving over her shoulder as she disappeared up the embankment and was gone.

"Um, certainly, I guess..." Albert looked after her, a bit bemused by the sudden exit. Such an excitable girl, despite how she sometimes appeared. And very, very interesting too. The most interesting person he'd met in a long time. And rather cute too, a distant part of his mind reminded himself, though as to why that was important, he could not quite qualify, but neither could he deny it felt that it was. "But how will we contact one another to meet up, I wonder? I possess no phone, and even if I did, we did not exchange information." Albert asked himself. It was a bit of a quandry. Thought would be required. He shrugged, activated his GAMARA boots and strode across the water of the aqueduct to the far side. It had been a good day, surprisingly so after the frustration of the morning. Maybe his good luck would continue into the night... so he might as well wander until he found the next interesting thing. Perhaps he would look more into Esper abilities and how they were gained and increased... something about Uiharu's struggles with increasing her power just didn't feel right to him...


	11. In Pursuit of Knowledge

**Author Note:**

I can't tell how long my inspiration will last, though I hope it continues for a long time now. So I'll be pushing out chapters as fast as possible. By all means, hope for this to continue, but don't expect it to be indefinitely.

I welcome all the new readers and reviewers, as well as the old. I look forward to hearing your opinions, advice, criticisms and amazement in your future reviews or PMs.

I apologize for any spelling or grammar errors. English is my native language and I'm pretty good at it, but I don't always catch everything, and sometimes forget to spell check in my haste to get a chapter out.

xxxx

 **Academy City, October 2nd, Russian Embassy complex basement, Morning**

Leonid was in the middle of the laborious process of getting through the onion-like layers of security apparatus around the secure briefing room buried deep within the Embassy. There were many channels of communication into and out of the Embassy, going around the world and within Academy City. That was the entire point of an Embassy after all, to facilitate communication between nation states. Or at least, that was the official purpose of an Embassy... everyone knew in reality than an Embassy was an excuse to deploy spies into enemy territory without causing too much of a ruckus. The host country would of course know that a certain percentage of the residents of an Embassy would be spies, but in exchange for being allowed to establish their own Embassies elsewhere, and because they hoped to be able to monitor and control what those spies got access to, no one complained. It was all part of the big smoke and mirrors show than Nations played with each other while jockeying for international power.

However, because of this unofficial mission, and because even accomplishing the official mission of an Embassy requiring being able to consult with your national leadership back home, ideally without anyone knowing what you were talking about except those directly involved in the conversation, an Embassy was also one of the most secure locations around. This was in terms of both personal and data security, and all the moreso when delving into the illegal spy side of the operation. Which was of course, where Leonid did most of his work. The process he was currently undergoing wasn't exactly a daily commute, but he was familiar enough with it to have long ago lost any sense of being impressed with the security layout, and had instead become impatient with it. In truth he considered it little more than security theatre, designed to make the Embassy officials and National leadership feel secure.

There were multiple passwords he had to enter at various security doors. There were fingerprint scanners, retinal scanners, body mass measuring platforms, stride analysis passageways, even radioactive isotope measuring devices that measured the rate of which various compounds decayed off his body and comapred it to prior data sets. There were armed guards, trained inspection dogs, and more security cameras, overt and covert, than he could easily count. Motion sensors, infared sensors, automatically sealing security gates, electrified floors and doors, even hidden claymore mines and incendiary devices built into some of the walls, set to trigger upon detection of unathorized entry. And it was all so pointless in the end! Any talented Electromaster could bypass the greater majority of the security systems without a hitch, as they all required electricity to function. The guards and dogs would be trickier, but electricity could deal with them as well. And a teleporter, with the right coordinates, could bypass the security measures entirely. The Embassy was very secure, against normal non-powered people. In a City of millions of Espers, Leonid was continually surprised that their security wasn't breached on a weekly basis.

That privately led him to believe that their security HAD been breached at some point, and then that breach covered up, with high tech surveillance equipment belonging to the Academy City Board of Directors emplaced throughout the facility, stuff so advanced that even the daily sweeps for bugs and cameras and espionage devices would detect nothing. Academy City had no need to test their security defense... they were long ago obsolete anyway. But there was just no telling that to the National Leadership, not after they spent tens of millions of dollars securing the place to begin with... they didn't want to hear how it was all useless. That left real security to field agents like Leonid, using the best possible fieldcraft and their own experience, in order to accomplish their missions even when he had to assume the enemy already knew all about it.

Lately, Leonid had been lying low, avoiding even his normal daily surveillance of targets, as Academy City's heightened security awareness in the wake of the Terrorist attack at the end of September made it too dangerous for him to be out stalking his targets. There was no such thing as a vacation while deployed undercover in enemy territory, but as much as was possible, Leonid had been on downtime for the past few days, until he had received contact from Dominika early that morning, instructing him to come in for an urgent mission. Finally clearing the last ring of security, Leonid entered the briefing room, somewhat surprised to see that he was not the only person present, and all the more surprised to see who the other person was. "Anatoly." Leonid said, both as greeting and to communicate his wary pleasure. If Anatoly was going to be in on this mission, the stakes must be very high indeed.

Anatoly, Code Name: Great Bear, was the pride and joy of the EKG External Division after all, the highest level front line capable Esper ever produced by Russia's Esper Program. He was listed as a Level 4, but that was in official materials only... Leonid had his suspicions that his friend was hiding the bulk of his power, likely on orders from on high. "Leonid." Anatoly inclined his head in gretting, being one of the few people to know Leonid's real name, much less address him by it. Though they were vastly different in terms of their abilities as Espers, since Leonid was a Level 0, they had grown close all the same, after coming up through the EKG program more or less at the same time, and frequently deploying on the same missions. Leonid took a seat at the table opposite Anatoly, and studied his friend, finding a smile stealing onto his face, as he often did when seeing Anatoly. His friend was just... just so very, very Russian, like a character from a propoganda movie.

Tall and very muscular, with a heavily built up upper body, narrow waist, strong legs, square jaw, slabby musculature and deeply set eyes under a frowning brow, Anatoly looked like a Russian heavyweight boxer, with short buzzed black hair and beetling brows, and the appearance of stubble just recently removed from his chin and jawline no matter how frequently he shaved, and eyes of deepest blue which always seemed to be glaring at whomever he was looking at, no matter how genial a mood Anatoly was in. Easily six and half feet tall, and massing over two hundred and fifty pounds, Anatoly was sometimes referred to in jest as "Captain Russia" by other Espers within the program. It didn't help that his particular Esper powers were basically superhuman physical aptitudes. Anatoly looked capable of bending steel bars with his bar hands, and lifting and throwing a motorbike as a weapon. And Anatoly was much, much stronger than he looked... and faster... and tougher too. Though he lacked any external energy manipulation abilities, the member of Academy City's Esper program that Anatoly was most often compared to was the 7th level 5, Sogita Gunha, Attack Crash.

Like Leonid, Anatoly was dressed in black combat trousers and a black turtleneck sweater, which strained to contain him. "I was told to wait until you arrived before accessing the mission briefing." Anatoly said as soon as Leonid was settled. He held up a thumb drive, pinching it between his thumb and pointer finger with the oddly deliberate delicacy with which he treated all physical objects he touched, at least outside of combat. The feeling of all that raw physical power Anatoly exuded, was almost hilariously offset by his devoted control to not breaking anything he touched, after he had been both teased and continually reprimanded about doing so during training while a lad. Opening a slot in the wall behind him, Anatoly plugged in the data stick, and booted up the briefing program, causing a projection screen to flicker to life along the wall in front of both of them.

"Great Bear, White Raven, thank you for coming on such short notice." A woman's cool, contralto voice came from the room's speakers, as the picture steadied on the screen, revealing a woman seated behind a desk. She was surprisngly short, wearing a very well tailored Russian Army dress uniform with all rank insignia and identifying marks removed, par for the course for EKG Espers. She had stunning blond hair, clearly dyed to an almost vannilla-gold hue, which hung down in long fringes across her surprisingly warm brown eyes and upper face, and descending down her back in flowing waves. Her skin appeared pale and delicate as porcelain, but both knew that for all her doll like appearance, this woman was as tough an officer as any to be found within either bureau of EKG. They were both quite familiar with her. This was Dominika, Codename: Soft Whisper, the telepathic control tower for the EKG Internal Division, and the third of the threesome who had come up through EKG training together, along with Anatoly and Leonid. Her face was all business, as to be expected from a mission briefing.

Neither of the men made any effort to greet her, as this was after all, only a recording. With no way to secure either airwaves or landline data cables passing out of Academy City, secure video briefings could only occur when recorded in Russia and then flown via Data Stick in secure diplomatic carriage, to the Embassy itself. "EKG in conjunction with the KGB, has an urgent mission for the two of you." Dominika went on immediately. "One of the KGB's deepest cover Human Intelligence operatives within Academy City has recently sent out a call for emergency extraction. This particular agent has been working on accessing the secret power development assessment profiles of the Academy City level 5's, and we believe he may have succeeded in gaining access to at least some of them. As you can both well imagine, this data is of the utmost importance, both to us and to Academy City!" Dominika stared at them both levelly, as the screen shrunk a little to bring up a picture of another man, who looked like a fairly normal Japanese man, wearing a lab coat, his only distinguishing feature a splash of white in the middle of his otherwise dark hair.

"This is Otake Sanzo, PhD, with a specialization in Human Brainwave Analysis and Control research. Dr. Otake is a highly acclaimed international expert in his field of study, and was able to secure a position within Academy City's upper research hierarchy without too much difficulty, where he has quietly been feeding us drips of intel on the Esper program of Academy City for several years now. The opportunity to gain access to the level 5 data came suddenly, and like any good researcher or good spy, Dr. Otake leapt at the chance. But yesterday night his last data drop indicated great alarm and worry and requested immediate extraction. He believe himself to be compromised, and we cannot risk losing him or the data he has uncovered. Your mission will be to recover Dr. Otake, as well as any data he has in his possession. This is going to be treated as a high level defection scenario, so you will be returning him to the Embassy itself, and you are both authorized to employ whatever means necessary to do so. Should you be killed or captured, Russia will of course deny any knowledge of your activities, but as far as any covert mission can be officially endorsed, this one is." Dominika continued, frowning as she stared through the screen at them both.

"Dr. Otake is currently at his place of work, an administrative facility within District 1. Security on the building is normally only of medium tier, but with the recent Terror attack, we expect the security level to be heightened. Normally I would want to give you time to inspect the facility and determine your own way in through the security, but unfortunately, time is one resource we do not have. If Dr. Otake is correct, it is certain that a team of Academy City cleaners will be coming after him very soon, and he will disappear, him and his data lost to us." Dominika sighed, breaking from the steely reserve she'd maintained for most of the briefing so far, to smile at them faintly. "Ana, Leo, I'm afraid you're going to just have to brute force this one. High Command is completely freaking out over the stuff Otake says he has, and they're willing to cause an international incident to get it if they have to. I personally do not agree, but nobody listens to me, of course. Do your best, and come back alive... Russia needs both of you, even if it does not realize it." The briefing winked out on that personal note, and the thumb drive whirred as it was automatically erased.

There was a moment of silence in the briefing room as Anatoly and Leonid traded soft smiles. "Who do you think will send? GROUP? ITEM? SCHOOL? Hound Dog? I can never keep track of all the secret groups Academy City has for cleaning out its dirty secrets." Anatoly asked, his voice jovial despite the severity of the task before them. That was another of the disarming things about Anatoly... for all his appearance and power, he was a lighthearted and friendly man by nature. "I swear, Academy City has more secret hit squads in their internal security apparatus than even Russia at the height of the Soviet Union did! It's a little intimidating..." His voice didn't sound intimidated. More like excited. It wasn't every day that Great Bear was basically told to go off the leash after all.

"With Level 5 data at stake, they will surely send a Level 5 to take care of it." Leonid reasoned. "I would assume either Number 2 or Number 4. They're keeping Number 1 close to the vest of late, and none of the others would be suited for such a mission as this."

"If it is Dark Matter, we are in trouble." Anatoly admitted freely.

"Indeed." Leonid could only agree with a small gulp. "But I feel it is more likely that it will be Meltdowner. Dark Matter has his own agenda as far as we can tell, and if Otake's data does not include information on his own ability, but rather other level 5's, I can see him having no particular interest in protecting it... it would only strengthen his own position for data like that to get out. He also hates short notice jobs, from what I understand of him, while Meltdowner is more amenable to overtime pay, as it were. Since we likely cannot defeat Dark Matter even if we prepare, especially on such short notice, let us assume it will be Meltdowner, and prepare accordingly. I will meet you at the car park in ten minutes, Anatoly. Make what preparations are necessary."

"I am always ready to do what must be done for Russia, my friend. It is you that I worry about." Anatoly said, eyes crinkled with concern.

"Do not worry about me. Do you not recall, Anatoly? The last time you and I fought a mock battle, I defeated you handily." Leonid said with a smirk.

"You cheated!" Anatoly declared in protest, eyes wide with recollection. "You tricked me! And used my most secret and greatest weakness against me... what an awful friend you were that day, Leo! It still gives me nightmares!"

"And if I will use such underhanded tactics against my close friend, what do you think I will do to the enemy, eh? Do not worry about me, Anatoly. They will underestimate me because I am a Level 0. It always happens with you higher level Espers. It can be counted on that they will lower their guard and not take me seriously, focusing on you until it is too late." Leonid smiled a wintry smile. "Ten minutes and counting. Car park. Meet you there."

xxxx

 **District 1, 20 minutes later**

"Get out here." Leonid instructed, bringing the car they had requisitioned from Embassy to a half behind a convenience store, with an alley that opened up onto the street in front of the nondescript looking Office building where Dr. Otake was apparently holed up, awaiting extraction. They were both still in their black outfits, but had donned plenty of additional gear, including body armor for both of them, and web belts hung with the best anti-Esper weapons and technology that EKG could come up with. From EKG's own experiments with strong nuclear force type powers like Meltdown, they knew that most materials would be blasted through with great ease, but that certain varieties of silicon could briefly resist and refract the energy beam, so their armor contained both Kevlar and silicon composite plating, which while not enough to protect against direct hits, might turn a glancing hit from a severe wound into mere discomfort. There were also grenades filled with silicon flakes and smoke that might disrupt or limit the range of Meltdown beams to a degree.

Anatoly carried no weapons, as he was the weapon, and most normal firearms would only slow him down. Leonid on the other hand,w as strapped like he was coming out a 4 for the price of 1 Arms Dealer going out of business sale. He had several handguns, an cut down assault rifle with underbarrel grenade launcher, revolver style dedicated grenade launcher, sawed off shotgun on one hip, several knives, brass knuckles, and various other tricks and surprises. They could not go undetected long while out on the streets of Academy City looking like this, but fortunately they did not have far to go. A garbage truck, heavily laden, and driven to this spot by request of Leonid by another of their undercover operatives within the administration of Academy City, blocked the exit to the alley, and also prevented anyone in the building from seeing them coming. They both pulled knit wool masks with eye and mouth holes down over their faces, and wore shaded goggles on top of those... flimsy disguises, but better than nothing, while they wore encrypted voice comm receivers in their ears so they could hopefully stay in contact during the ruckus to come.

There was an Anti-Skill checkpoint at the entrance to the parking lot of this particular building, where workers and visitors would be forced to show ID and be checked against a list of residents or approved visitors before being allowed into the parking lot or the building itself. Retractable road barriers built into the sloped ramp leading from the road to the parking lot prevented access by vehicles in either direction. It was a chokepoint, and it would need to be blocked off to help ensure the success of their ad-hoc mission. Taking hold of his grenade launcher, Leonid took a knee, bracing himself as he made sure he was loaded with smoke and tear gas rounds, and then gave the nod to Anatoly, as his friend dusted off his hands, bent his knees and got a grip under neath the side of the garbage truck. Gritting his teeth, Anatoly heaved upwards with a shout of effort, lifting and then flipping the garbage truck, hurling it across the street in a parabolic arc, several tons of steel and garbage descending upon the Anti-Skill shack guarding the parking lot entrance.

Anti-Skill officers dived desperately for cover to avoid being crushed to a gooey red paste, but Leonid paid them no mind as he unleashed a barrage of mingled smoke and tear gas grenades on the parking lot entrance, which now had the garbage truck lying across both lanes and the kiosk, completely blocking all vehicular access. Thick grey smoke and choking greenish tear gas now flooded across that area, blocking it off from easy view and providing additional distractions. Anatoly grabbed Leonid and hefted him in his arms, a princess carry, but Leonid did not care how it looked, only that it was effective, as his burly friend tensed his leg muscles and jumped thirty feet in the air, crossing over the blockade they had created while Leonid laid down another barrage of smoke and tear gas round along a path towards the entrance to the building. Anatoly landed, legs cushioning the impact so that Leonid jarred only a little, before leaping forward again, hopping across the parking lot, staying within the smoke and tear gas, before smashing through the reinforced glass of the entryway, like a bull entering a china shop!

Released from Anatoly's assistance, Leonid dived for the security desk, firing a final smoke grenade directly into the armored chest of the Anti-Skill officer standing behind it, pummeling the man backwards off balance before Leonid finished him off with a hard side-hand chop to the man's neck, just shy of crushing the hyoid bone there, dropping the man choking and gagging onto his back. It was not out of any particular sense of mercy that he avoided killing the man... his foot had slipped a little when delivering the blow, but with the security guard down and out of the way, that was good enough. Taking a disposable thumb drive from one of his pouches, Leonid inserted it into the Security Guard's computer, automatically triggering a virus upload that would hopefully screw up the various alarms and internal security systems of the building somewhat. Anatoly had already disappeared deeper into the building, in pursuit of their objective.

Leonid busied himself with booby trapping the entrance to the building, laying down tripwires connected to claymores, and scattering various other devices around the foyer, some intended to distract, others to maim, wound or kill. He didn't intend to leave by this route anyway, so he might as well give any first responders a hard time following them in. A few more smoke grenades kept the lobby full of cloudy mist that limited vision, and Leonid then ran off into the building, following the trail of destruction that Anatoly had created... his friend had no need to use doors after all, when he could plunge easily headlong through walls, bypassing many layers of security. Now at close quarters, and with his supply of launcher grenades everaly depleted, Leonid discarded the grenade launcher, and took up his assault rifle instead. He let off several unaimed bursts into the walls and floor, careful of ricochets, letting the thunder of automatic gunfire resound throughout the building, hopefully getting most of the workers and residents to duck their heads and hide in fear.

"Target found." Anatoly's terse voice came across the comms, deep and rumbly with tension. "Heading towards rooftop escape route now."

"Understood. Meet you there." Leonid replied, equally tense. Things were going well so far. He did not expect it to continue. That was the safest assumption. Breaking off from Anatoly's path, Leonid sprinted for the nearest stairs, reloading his rifle as he kicked open the door and barreled through it in a roll, leaping to his feet when he saw the stairway was unoccupied, and began pounding up the stairs. His breathing was heavy, the effort great, but he had trained and conditioned his body exactly for such exertions as this, and he knew he could run all the way up the stairs to the rooftop without becoming too short of breath. But with Anatoly escorting the objective, Leonid needed to run cover for his friend, so at every landing, he smashed open the door to the current floor and unleashed a burst or two of unaimed gunfire down the hall, trying to keep the panic and confusion level high.

It was as he was heading upwards from the sixth floor towards the seventh that Leonid hit his first snag, and it nearly cost him his life. Turning the corner of the staircase, he felt something tug at his boot, and realized almost instantly that he'd hit a tripwire. Seeing what looked like some sort of ragdoll or stuffed animal tucked away in the corner of the landing of the next story, Leonid made the obvious assumption that it was a bomb or IED of some sort and hurled himself backwards down the stairs, rolling head over heels down the stairs as the bomb detonated above him with a tremendous BOOM! Fragmentation shrapnel tore across the stairwell, ripping up the walls and floor, and if he had not reacted so quickly, it would certainly have eviscerated him at the very least! There was no time to feel shock or pain from his tumble, Leonid threw himself through the stairway access door onto the 6th level of the building, rolling down the hall as he tried to think of an alternate pathway up the building.

"Basically, I'm impressed you survived that." A young female voice commented from around a corner ahead of him, and Leonid immediately scrambled backwards, searching for cover of his own. Hearing such a voice on a battlefield like this building was becoming might seem incongruous, but this was Academy City after all, and there was a tendency for very big trouble to come in very unassuming packages. What looked like a young girl could easily be capable of blasting you into a pile of pulped meat depending on what Esper power they had. "But you might as well give up now." The girl continued, her voice full of wicked anticipation. "We were here totally before you guys, and figured that your sponsors must have sent an extraction team, given how the target was acting. So Mugino said we should lay a trap for whatever stupid bastards came knocking, and as usual, it looks like she was spot on. Basically, you guys are screwed."

Leonid rolled a frag grenade of his own down the hall towards the source of the voice, blasting a flaming crater in the carpet and shredding the walls and floor and ceiling with metallic shrapnel just as it reached the nearby corridor junction. "Nice try." The girl complimented him, with a teasing note in her voice, clearly not affected by his grenade in the slightest. "But you missed me. Basically, I like to watch fools like you, squirm in panic as I slowly close my trap on you and kill you." Unable to tell where the girl was, Leond did the only thing he could think of that might throw her off... he ran towards the source of her voice. Figuring that if she had been lying in wait for him, and was clearly trying to discomfit and panic him, that moving away from her was what she wanted. She was likely prepared for him to charge her, but perhaps not as much as she was for him to retreat.

"Hostile encountered." He reported across the comms, but heard only grunts and heavy breathing across the channel, and figured that Anatoly was busy with his own problems. He turned the corner, sweeping his assault rifle from side to side to cover all the corners and angles, but saw no one. Suddenly he heard the sound of a door creaking open from behind him, down another branch of the hall, and he threw himself forward into another desperate evasive roll, as what looked like a small missile of some sort came rocketing down the hall.. not from behind him, but from off down the passageway he had just turned out of, the missile flashing down the hall before impacting on the outer wall of the building and blasting it out in a shower of glass and brick fragments.

"Oh, you are good, aren't you? Basically, most people would have turned towards the noise behind them, but you realized it was a decoy. This is turning out more fun than I thought it would be." The girl continued to taunt him, for somewhere else on the same floor as him. Perhaps using microphones to throw her voice around, and mini-cameras to keep track of his position. That was what he might have done if he'd had time to set the battlefield as she apparently had. "But I'm afraid that I don't have forever to play cat and mouse with you, Mr. Dead Man. Basically, its time for game over. Kinuhata, it's your turn." The girl said disdainfully, and Leonid realized his situation was even worse than he'd thought... not only was he on enemy turf, but he was outnumbered.

A thin girl's arm suddenly punched out through the wall across the hall from Leonid, before the wlal cracked and then smashed apart as the owner of said arm stepped through the hole she had created, in a cloud of plaster dust and chips of concrete. "Good. I was super getting bored listening to you taunt him." The new girl said in a dry and cold voice. She was even younger looking than the first girl had sounded, still at an age when her gender was only obvious when she opened her mouth to speak, clad in short shorts that exposed most of her legs and a green and yellow hoodie garment of some sort. She had short brown hair, and her eyes were as cold as her voice. "Time to finish this job." She said, taking an almost casual step towards Leonid. In turn, her pointed his rifle at her and opened fire without hesitating. This was an enemy Esper after all, not an innocent little girl. He'd being fighting child Esper opponents most of his life, and he always took them seriously even if they rarely returned the favor.

Despite being at point blank range, none of his rifle rounds hit the girl, or rather they all hit her, but were deflected by some kind of barrier or protective effect around her, bouncing off and tearing through the walls and ceiling like water spraying away from a statue, leaving her skin and clothes unmarked. "That's super not gonna work." The girl said, deadpan. But given how directly she had confronted him, Leonid had already assumed that gunfire did not concern her, so even as he fired he'd pulled the pin on another grenade and rolled it at her. No frag this, it was too close quarters for that, he'd kill himself. Instead he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, timing the turn away so as to give as little warning as possible when the flash-bang went off, filling the corridor with noise and blinding light! Ducking forward in a shoulder roll, Leonid crashed into the legs of the stunned and blinded Esper girl, surprising himself with how easy it was to knock her down, as she was very small and light. He rolled over on top of her, grasping for her throat with one hand and a knife with his other hand.

However, her barrier continued to interfere, making her throat seem impossibly hard and slippery, and he was unable to close his fingers around her neck. SO he stabbed with the knife instead, but it also bounced off her barrier, skidding away from her skin and clothes and almost cutting himself. So neither bullets nor close quarters combat would work. It almost reminded him of the Accelerator's Redirection barrier, but not so powerful as that. Though that did still pose a significant threat. But if direct force wouldn't get through, what about indirect energy transfer? Leonid scrabbled for his hip mounted shotgun, which he had loaded with dragon's breath flamethrowing rounds for close quarters room clearing and suppression. He had just got the weapon out of its holster when the girl recovered enough from the flash bang to struggle, managing to easily hurl him off and against the far wall, crumpling it slightly, despite their difference in size and mass. But that still worked for Leonid, as he leveled the shotgun and cut loos ewith both barrels, filling the space between them with liquid napalm flame in a torrent that washed over the girl.

This sent her stumbling backwards, the flames unable to reach her directly, but heating up the environment around her enough to cause discomfort and indirect burns, her skin turning a bit red in spots. The instinctive terror of being doused in fire also acted upon her for a moment, sending her into retreat until she realized that she was not seriously harmed. Leonid took advantage of the breather to load two more shells, this time selecting high density armor piercing slugs. This barrier was not redirection, it was like compressed gas or something, that meant it could be broken through, maybe with enough force. Regular rounds wouldn't do it, but these armor piercing man stoppers might. He targeted the still flame swathed girl and gave her one barrel, slamming the slug into her in the center of her sternum, the kinetic force of the impact actually lifting her from her feet and smashing her back, into and through the hole in the wall she'd caused upon her entrance. That was more like it, though with no spray of blood, he figured she'd still stopped the attack and wasn't too badly hurt.

Before he could go after the girl though, Leonid was forced to dive for cover again, as the first girl appeared down the hallway, revealing herself as a blond with northern european looks, clad in skirt and pumps and jacket and a dark beret, as she hurled two more of those mini-missiles down the hall at him, apparently taking them from some place under her skirt. He fired back with the remaining barrel of his shotgun, but at such range, the sawed off weapon was very inaccurate, and though he took a chunk out of the wall behind her, she didn't even duck for cover herself. Her missiles slammed into the wall and ceiling near him, the twin explosive shockwaves smashing him back flat on his back, feeling like his entire body had been pummeled and trampled by horses, his shotgun flying from his grip to skid off down the corridor. With the wind knocked out of him, Leonid scrabbled for a pistol, for some weapon to use to stave off the other girl, but there was already another pair of missiles in flight and...

Then Anatoly erupted from the floor beneath them, appearing in the corridor between Leonid and his assailant in a shower of concrete and floor tiles, swatting the missiles out of the air with one flailing arm even as he used the other to hold a limp and terrified looking Japanese man to his chest, turning his back to put the most protection between Dr. Otake and any harm that might come his way. Their flight disrupted, the missiles spiraled out of control, slamming into the walls and blasting holes in them, but neither Anatoly nor Leonid was harmed. "I'll handle this! You go!" Anatoly roared, his voice at a volume that seemed to shake the building, as he all but hurled Dr. Otake at Leonid. He reached down and grabbed a ceramic tile from the rubble around his feet, and hurled it like a discus down the hallway towards the blond girl, the projectile flying so fast it blurred, the girl only barely diving out of the way, as the tile slashed through the wall behind her and kept going, like a splinter propelled through a steel pole by the winds of a tornado.

"Anatoly, watch out, there is another!" Leonid shouted back, as he grabbed the stunned and disoriented and somewhat bloodied Dr. Otake under one arm and began dragging him away down the hall.

"That was SUPER not cool of you." The brown haired girl's voice was positively glacial now, as she stepped back through the hole in the wall she'd initially made. She was mostly unharmed, except for reddish, sunburn looking effects on her arms and cheeks, and an apparent soreness in her chest from where the shotgun slug had almost penetrated her barrier. She glared at Leonid, and then reached behind her to pull up the hood of her hoodie, and as it settled over her head, Leonid realized things were about to take a turn for the worse.

"Anatoly, DO NOT TURN AROUND!" Leonid screamed desperately, but it was already too late, his great friend was turning to see what new threat had appeared behind him. Which caused him to behold the girl, and more importantly, her hoodie. Which Leonid had initially observed to be yellow green in color, but it was the hood of the hoodie that was the problem. It was one of those animal character hoodies, that young boys and girls liked to wear to look cute. This particular one had big googly eyes, widely spaced and a wide smile... it was a Gekota hoodie.

"IYAGUSHKA! NNNNNGGAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHRGRGGG!" Anatoly's scream of pure terror blew out the windows on the entire floor, as he threw out his hands in desperate panic, flailing about in horror, turning on his heel and plunging headlong through the nearest wall as he blindly fled in panic, uncaring of what he passed through or left behind him. That was the great hidden shame of Russia's most powerful Esper. For all that he could lift and throw a main battle tank, deflect bullets and even RPG's with his skin, and move faster than the speed of sound, there was one thing in all the world that he simply could not defeat. And that was frogs. Anatoly had an absolute horror of frogs. It was even worse than a fear of them, it was a crippling phobia. Just being within view of them gave him nausea, and being near them or touched by them would send him fleeing, screaming or cowering in a corner. Imagine a young girl encountering a cockroach in the bathroom unexpected, and you have some idea of the sort of reaction Anatoly had to frogs... just a million times more destructive to his environment because of his power. His fear was so overwhelming that lately even cartoon depictions of Frogs could trigger his phobia.

And Leonid was not a little to blame for that. During their last mock battle, he had tricked Anatoly into charging at him and falling into a pit... which he had filled with dozens upon dozens of plush Gekota dolls beforehand. Covered in cartoony plush frog dolls at the bottom of a hole, all intelligence completely overridden by horror, Anatoly had flailed and screamed and crashed into the walls indiscriminately for many long minutes, until eventually descending into a near catatonic state of terror that had taken several hours for him to break out of after being removed from the pit. He still had nightmares about it. It had been extremely effective, but a tad cruel for all that. And now it was coming back to haunt Leonid, as the girl wearing the Gekota hoodie was just something Anatoly was not psychologically equipped to deal with! Though this was also one of the things that made Leonid think that Anatoly was hiding his true power... only Level 5 Espers tended to display psychological issues and hangups like this.

"That was super weird..." The hoodie wearing girl commented, deadpan once more, looking curiously through the holes in the wall that Anatoly's flight had created. Before she could say more, the sound of Anatoly's screaming dopplered closer, shortly before bright emerald green beams of energy slashed through the walls, nearly taking Leonid's head off in the process! It seemed he'd been right. They had sent Meltdowner, and that meant the other girls were definitely part of ITEM. Dragging the shocked Dr. Otake by one arm and the collar of his tattered lab coat, Leonid retreated towards the main lobby and foyer of the 6th floor, taking advantage of the nonplussed effects Anatoly's actions had on the two ITEM girls to try and get some distance. Things were definitely not going well. There was a Level 5 closing in, and the enemy had successfully, if unintentionally, won a battle of psychological warfare against Anatoly. He would not be nearly as useful for the near future. What else could go wrong...?

xxxx

 **Down on the 1st floor, main lobby**

"I appear to be late to the party. How rude of them to start without me." The girl standing in the middle of the lobby said with a petulant tone to her voice. She was the sort of girl a poet might describe as ethereal, with skin so pale it was nearly translucent, a figure just feminine enough to notice while being so slender it appeared too stiff a wind might break her in two. Her hair, as crimson as blood, flowed freely down her body almost to her ankles, and her eyes were limpid pools, as dark as the ocean at midnight, and nearly as deep. Her face was the sort that a lovestruck man could stare into for hours, lose himself in, as she pouted or smiled and stared passionately into the mysteries of the night sky. She wore a schoolgirl uniform, which was hardly uncommon in this city, though hers had a midnight black blazer and crimson red skirt, with crimson red tie over silky white shirt. A rose of silvery steel, elegantly shaped by a master craftsmans hands, was pinned to her left breast, where a school badge might normally be. She looked to be anywhere from 14 to 16 or so, with plenty of room for interpretation.

"Don't you all agree?" The girl twirled in place with a dancer's grace, her floating out around her as she pivoted to take in the lobby around her. "Is it not simply unbearably rude to start a party without the guest of honor?" She inquired in haughty tones. Nothing and no one responded to her, other than the drip, drip, drip of thick, crimson liquid on the walls and floor and even ceiling. The lobby had been turned into an abattoir, a slaughterhouse, packed with civilians fleeing the building and Anti-Skill officers assisting in the evacuation. Blood and pieces of formerly living human flesh and organ painted the interior surfaces of the lobby. Splashed ten, fifteen even twenty feet up the walls, and splattered on the ceiling, the mingled lifeblood and vital organs of several dozen civilians and Anti-Skills. It had all been so very, very annoyingly noisy, and no one had been paying attention at all to her when she arrived. Affronted, she had decided to correct their manners. It was a brief lesson, but she knew it would stay with them.

More blood dripped from all ten of her fingers, her nails slowly returning to merely fingernails, instead of the hooked talons they became when she was in an unpleasant mood. Her clothing was unmarked, despite everything else around her being soaked in gore, and she licked her lips, which were so full, so red, so juicy they looked wet... as they recently had been. The corner of her mouth quirked up in a sneer, revealing one very elongated canine fang on that side of her mouth, glinting like moonlight reflecting off death's own scythe. "Of course it is. You all agree with me. You have no choice. Now chop chop, minions, enough lying about in pieces... we have a party to attend!" The girl commanded with a sinister chuckle, which was slowly echoed by the rasping, gasping, moaning of the recently reanimated dead, rising under her command, infused with fragments of her dark magics. Zombies, the staple of any good Necromancer... cheap, expendable, durable and horrifying to the uninitiated. The girl was not technically a Necromancer, but due to her circumstances, she drew upon the same kinds of magic as they did, as easily as she had once breathed.

Strolling across the blood slicked foyer over to the elevators, the girl sunk her fingers right through the elevator door, tearing through the metal like it was tin foil, peeling back the doors and exposing the open elevator shaft beyond. The elevator cars were not running, all sent to the basement as part of the emergency response protocols of the building, but that didn't bother her. She could hear the hearts pounding above her, pumping all that rich, tasty blood around bodies sweating with excitement and fear and the juices of combat and adrenaline. Ahh, but it was a banquet indeed being laid out for her up there, and it was all she could do to hold herself back from rushing forward in a frenzy. She was the Duchess Claudia Corbowitz, of the Macabre Court of the Hollow Ones Cabal, and she was a Vampire. Not just a Vampire, but an elder amongst her kind... she might look fourteen, but in reality she was thirty times as old as that, able to alter her appearance at whim. She controlled several Dark Magic Cabals and groups of her own, either through her progeny, or through her political manipulations and secret domination of their leadership. Though for all her power and acumen and dark knowledge, she was still but a High Noble within Izarde's Court.

The sound of shuffling feet and bodies dragging themselves by broken arms through lakes of blood heralded the arrival of her recently raised minions at her heels, though none of the mindless slaves dared approached closer than a handspan to her body. They were less creatures and more like puppets of her will. She could create more powerful and more independent undead servitors... culminating in the Blood Kiss that brought a new Vampire into the night, but she did not anticipate the need for such during this task. She was just recovering a mere mortal, someone that the Lord Izarde had discovered was in possession of information that might be of use to them. It was little more than an errand really, a shopping trip more than a mission. She still pounced on the chance to carry it out, to earn his favor. Working directly with the Hollow Master was an opportunity unlike any she had encountered in her unlife so far, and she was determined to make the most of it for the future. And because of the nature of her and Lord Izarde's powers, this kind of retrieval mission could be completed with the target alive... or dead, equally well.

Calling upon her vampiric powers, Claudia transformed her body into a swarm of red eyed, black furred vampiric bats, thousands and thousands of them fluttering around in an unholy cyclone, sweeping up the tattered and ragged bodies of her zombies before pouring up into the open elevator shaft, carrying them up in a tide of nightmares, reaching the sixth floor in heartbeats, and Claudia could not resist making an entrance, sensing the living bodies gathered around the upper floor lobby, one group of four and one group of three opposite them, none of them having the slightest clue what horror was about to pour out upon them! Claudia gathered her swarm body, packing tightly behind the closed elevator doors, before surging forward all at once, bulging the doors out before ripping them free violently, as her swarm exploded out into the 6th floor lobby, hurling Zombies and chunks of Zombies willy-nilly, painting the walls and floor and shocked mortals with blood and gore and chunks of ravaged flesh indiscriminately!

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!" Claudia allowed her haunting laughter to echo around the room wildly, her bloodlust and blood curdling arrogance apparent in every syllable, as he laughter went on and on and on, far beyond the limits of any human throat to sustain, as slowly the bats swirled back together, packing in on top of each other, condensing, bones popping, flesh tearing, blood running like a waterfall in midair as her body reformed itself in humanoid form, clothes reconstituting themselves as she alighted upon the floor, puddles of blood lapping around her school loafers. She looked around and bared her teeth, both fangs fully on display, her smile having less to do with her happiness and more to do with her hunger. "Greetings... morsels..." Claudia said with a sneer, a red glow appearing in the depths of her eyes as she looked from side to side, trying to decide who was the most delicious looking.

On her left side were three men, two of them in their twenties, one older. The younger men were clad in black uniforms common to underworld soldiers, bearing weapons and armor, while the older man wore a labcoat and civilian clothes, much mussed and ragged. Claudia sniffed the air. Two Russians, one Japanese. She had feasted upon mortals for centuries now, and had eaten all over the world... she had a connoisseurs sense of taste and smell, a gourmet of blood. And on her right hand side were four girls, all teenagers, one of them young enough that she smelled barely even flowered to Claudia's discerning nose. Three Japanese, one Swede. The girls were dressed in comfortable civilian clothes... a frog character hoodie and short shorts, skirt and blazer with beret, one piece purple dress over spats and high heeled knee boots, and sweat pants with T shirt, respectively. Claudia turned her head to the right. The target she was here for was the man in the lab coat. But the girls were so much more delicious looking. She had a sweet tooth for the blood of young girls... and most of them smelled like virgins, all the better!

To her credit, one of the girls, the eldest one who looked to be in high school or maybe early university, tall and statuesque of figure, with long, wavy brown hair down to her lower back and a slasher smile on her face that made Claudia shiver in all the right ways, did not remain shocked or stunned by her arrival for long, as a green ball of energy appeared from nowhere above in front of the girl's outstretched hand, pointed like the barrel of a gun at Claudia. "I don't know who the hell you think you are, bitch, but you're in my way, and you got blood on my best boots!" The wavy haired girl said with a sneer of outrage and utter self confidence. "Your bad luck, you stepped in front of the Meltdowner!" The girl, who was apparently called Meltdowner, unleashed hre green beam directly at Claudia. The attack probably would have been very difficult to dodge for a mortal, especially at this range. Vampires though, were considerably quicker than any mortal could ever be. The beam's travel was not instantaneous, so it wasn't a laser, even if it looked like one. Claudia could feel that it was very hot though, and she declined to let it touch her, flicking her head casually out of the way, allowing the beam to sear past her without touching her.

At almost the same time, a gun barked several times, and Claudia felt several bullets... handgun caliber, she judged as they punched into her back, tumbled through her flesh, and burst out her front... impact her, courtesy of the smaller Russian man. She easily absorbed the kinetic impact imparted by the bullets, and sighed in mocking displeasure, as her flesh almost instantly reformed, closing to its usual perfection almost before the bullets were done passing through her. High Speed regeneration was one of a Vampire's greatest defenses. There were only a few things that could prevent her from recovering from them almost instantly. Silver was one such thing. Blessed or holy weapons or objects were another. A weapon wielded by a true innocent with pure faith could harm her, regardless of what it was. And fire could hurt her as well... though most of her defensive magics were focused around protecting from that at least. But anything else, including normal lead bullets or steel weapons, or kinetic force, or whatever... it might inconvenience her for a moment, but it could not harm her nor kill her.

"You tore my clothes." Claudia said with a pout, glancing over her shoulder at the rude Russian. The next millisecond, she was upon him, claws sprouting from her figners as she thrust them at his face, faster even than he could blink, his body a frozen statue of mortal limitations as she prepared to blind him and then crush his skull to powder. Her talons were just about the pierce the quivering jelly of his eyeballs when the second Russian, the hulking bruiser, suddenly snatched out with his hand, moving just as fast as Claudia herself, and proving actually to be physically stronger, as he seized her wrist and stopped her cold, slowing her down back to human speeds, allowing the smaller Russian to flinch backward with a cry of alarm. "How dare you lay your hands upon a Lady of the Night!" Claudia chided the musclebound fool, clawing at him with her free hand, talons gashing the skin of his arm, but she frowned, because that should have ripped his hand off, but had only gashed him. Not only was he strong, he was incredibly tough. Espers. This was her first time encountering them. It was proving educational.

The strong Russian pulled hard on her wrist and pulled Claudia off her feet, whirling her around in a blur before smashing her into and through a nearby wall, hurling her like a shotput, smashing through several walls in a heartbeat before she recovered her balance and halted her headlong tumble. It had not hurt, but being manhandled like that was an affront to her dignity. She sprinted back through the holes she'd made, faster than the fastest wind, and shoulder checked the muscular Russian, bowling him over in a heap and smashing him through walls on the opposite side of the lobby, nearly crushing several of the girls in the process. Green beams, multiple of them this time, formed around Meltdowner's head and shoulders, spewing green beams of destructive heat at Claudia, slicing and blasting indiscriminately. Claudia heard a scream of mortal agony from behind her, but ignored it in favor of the hunt, as she dashed headlong through the beams, weaving and ducking and dancing her way between them, chuckling with glee. It had been a while since her prey had provided such stimulating amounts of resistance.

Dashing through the Meltdown barrage, she cocked her wrist back, planning to slice open the Meltdown girl from vulva to clavicle with one slash of her talons, and see how mouthy the girl was with her guts around her ankles and her beating heart visible between her split ribs! One of the other girls pushed forward though, this one was the youngest one, the barely flowered one who's body had not yet bloomed as a woman, and Claudia lashed out at her backhand in irritation. Her claws met surprisingly resistance, some sort of barrier effect protecting the girl from the majority of the cutting force of Claudia's talons, though not all of it, as she scored a bloody wound across the girl's flat chest and collarbone, before the force her blow smacked the girl back like a ragdoll, flying across the room with a scream of agony to crash into a wall, the satisfying crunch of collarbone giving way under the impact making Claudia leer with pleasure, drool dripping from her fang tips. Oh, but her pain was so sweet...

"Kinuhata!" One of the other girls cried in dismay and anger, this one was the blond Swede, who reached under her skirt and pulled forth a handful of thick, phallic looking objects, that took Claudia a moment to recognize as weapons rather than stimulation aids of some sort. Rocket motors ignited at the rear of the devices as the girl tossed them underhand at Claudia, while the Meltdowner girl jumped backwards, clearing the line of fire. Declining to allow herself to suffer the indignity of missile fire, Claudia grabbed one of her nearby Zombies, who had been lying about more or less inert while she amused herself, but now it was time to give them something to do. She tossed the ragged corpse into the path of the missiles, when they were barely out of the blond's hand, the missiles failing to arm at such close range, but getting caught in the Zombie's body, which then plowed into the girl, knocking her to the floor underneath a now bomb equipped undead minion, which began mindlessly pawing at her and trying to bit her with its jagged tooth stumps. The girl screamed, high and loud, clearly not expecting the ruined body to start moving and attacking her.

Other shouts and shrieks of surprise and fear and disgust rang out from the other mortals, male and female alike, as the other Zombies shuffled to their feet around the lobby and began stumbling towards the mortals, arms outstretched blindly, moaning with mindless hunger. Gunshots rang out from the small Russian, who had an assault rifle in his hand now, unloading half a clip into an Anti-Skill zombie, but though its chest was blown to red ruin and white bone, the Zombie barely staggered, and kept staggering forward. Even headshots wouldn't stop these zombies, not unless the entire head was destroyed. Their resilience was their one good point. The green Meltdown beams proved to be more trauma than they could handle though, easily being blasted apart or burned into ash with just a brush of the beams, much to Claudia's displeasure. It had been no effort at all to make them, but it still displeased her to see a mortal downing her minions with such casual ease!

Suddenly the large Russian was in front of her again, recovered from the body slam she had given him earlier, punching at her, forcing her to twist aside from another charge at Meltdowner. He was a skilled unarmed fighter though, and followed up immediately, launching a flurry of punches at her that forced her to duck and dodge and weave, on the back foot. It was rare to encounter someone capable of moving at her speed, and with greater physical power than her. He was still no threat of course... he could not harm her with his attacks, even if they did land, but being knocked about and having to regenerate bones constantly was annoying, so she was dodging to avoid it. It was getting tiresome. Claudia focused, drawing upon some of the blood she had consumed earlier, boosting her physical power temporarily. Not for more than a couple seconds, making it an inefficient use of blood. But it gave her the strength to catch the next punch of the Russian strongman and stop in cold in the palm of her hand, tile exploding from the floor under her heels as she absorbed the force of the blow, which would have dented a bank vault door.

With her other hand she traced a quick mystical symbol in the air with the point of one claw, glowing red lines of magical energy forming the symbol of a bat winged blood drop inside a pentagrammical circle. "Le sang revient à la maison!" Claudia incanted imperiously, drawing upon one of her magical skills. Unlike lesser, mortal mages, a simple incantation was enough to call forth the effect she required, after all her centuries of study. There was no instant effect, other than the bloody wounds she'd gouged in the man's forearm earlier suddenly ran thick with fresh blood, overcoming the clotting that had started to occur, as the vitae ran hot and fast down his arm and leaped through the air, spiraling in liquid tendrils which targeted her free hand, upon the palm of which she had sliced an opening with one talon, a figurative maw to devour the life blood of her foe. The blood continue to flow, pulling continuously forth from the Russian's open wounds by her magical control, rapidly draining him, weakening him to the point where she no longer had to spend blood to strength herself to hold him. This was not her preferred method for ingesting vitae of course, but it was certainly effective. Her fang glinting smile grew broader and broader, stretching across her face beyond human limits as her eyes began to positively pulse with red glow.

Esper blood. It was different than normal mortals. Tangier. Crackling with a hidden flavor. Not particularly any more nourishing than normal. But spiced differently. Like the difference between a virgin and a non virgin, but unique to that flavoring distinction. It was not the most intoxicating vitae she'd ever had... but it was uniquely flavored, and for a Vampire of her pedigree, that was rare enough to savor. So she did... and perhaps indulged herself a little longer than was prudent, as she felt heat approaching her back once more, and glanced back, only for her eyes to widen as she saw a huge number of small Meltdown beams approaching her, the normal beams somehow split and refracted by passing through a card of some glassy material with pre-built stress lines scored into it. There were too many for her to dodge them all, especially with the Russian under her control, so she had to regretfully toss her meal aside before it was finished, leaving the man shuddering and anemic, but still alive. Several Meltdown beams struck the Russian as he was tumbling out of her grip, but his armor absorbed them somehow.

Claudia's clothing was less resistant, and huge swathes of it were burned away along her back and side as multiple Meltdown beams smashed into her, her warding spells mitigating most of them, but leaving her flesh reddened and even blistered in one spot. She could feel it slowly start to heal, but had to divert blood from her reserves, fortunately just now refreshed, to speed up the healing process and leave her unblemished once more. "What the hell!?" The Meltdowner girl cried in obvious shock. "You should be dead! I hit you directly! Nothing can resist my Meltdowner!"

"I am dead. I was dead long before the whore that bore the whore that bore you was ever born, you meddlesome child!" Claudia hissed in outrage, her clothing reduced to barely enough tatters to preserve her modesty. Not that she really cared, and she could easily repair or recreate the clothes. But it was the principle of the thing. "Your Meltdown power is certainly unpleasant, but I have warded myself against destruction by fire and heat. You'll need to try a lot harder than that if you want tor educe me to ashes!"

"TRY THIS THEN, YOU FUCKING FREAK!" Meltdown concentrated all four of her beams into one mega beam, and blasted at Claudia in a clear display of strength, a beam of green energy as thick as the girl's thigh howling across the room towards Claudia. She gestured with both hands this time, red lines appearing from her left claws, black lines appearing from her right claws, as she combined the natural blood magic of Vampires with the Necromancy she had been taught by Izarde, the symbol from before appearing within a much more complex black sigil featuring iconography of bones and skulls arrayed in circles and along the lines of a celestial orrery. "Bouclier d'os et de sang!" Claudia cried out, causing explosions of gore from all her Zombies and the pieces of Zombies, as their bones erupted from their flesh along with their blood, hurtling across the room to form a wall of blood and bone, reinforced with magical power, to block the Meltdown blast. The green beam met the crimson dripping ivory of the magical wall and splashed like water from a hose, splatters of green energy flying everywhere like sparks, melting through walls, floor, ceiling and anything in their path... anything in their path but the bone wall. "BITCH DON'T SCREW WITH ME!" Meltdowner screamed in outrage, pouring more power into the beam.

Cracks began to appear in the wall of bone, blood evaporating into steam as the defensive barrier magic began to give way. Claudia raised an eyebrow, somewhat impressed. Shield of Bone and Blood was one of her stronger defensive spells, to see it overwhelmed so quickly was surprising. She had not given the Esper enough credit for her destructive powers. Gesturing sharply with her talons, Claudia angled the bone wall, deflecting the majority of the beam upwards and away from her before the shield could crumble completely, the green beam gouging a huge arc through the ceiling above her as Meltdowner tried to sweep the beam at her, but Claudia was too quick to allow that to happen now that she knew how potent her foe's ability was. She was about to pounce upon the cursing Esper once more, to rend her down to bloody gobbets, when she discovered that she had actually underestimated Meltdowner even more than she'd thought. She had not considered how far the deflected beam would penetrate, and had not realized that the sweeping beam had basically cut a cross section out of the side of the building, which collapsed with a roar of bending steel, shattering glass and crumbling concrete.

A collapsing building posed no threat to Claudia... even if buried, she could turn to mist and be free in short order. But the fact that it was the middle of the morning was relevant. Sunlight was not deadly to a Vampire of Claudia's power, but it was certainly painful and unpleasant, and dramatically weakened her powers, and she had just put in a massive skylight for this battlefield! Snarling in outrage, Claudia threw up her arms in a futile but instinctive gesture of warding against the sunlight. Playtime was officially over, she realized. She stood real chance of being harmed if attacked while out in sunlight like this. She cast about for the target of her errand, and hissed when she saw his limp corpse lying on the ground, a huge charred hole burned through where his lungs and heart had used to be. He was clearly a victim of one of Meltdowner's earlier indiscriminate attacks, and was quite dead. That didn't mean he was useless to her and Lord Izarde though. She could see that the Russians were withdrawing, taking advantage of the partially collapsing building to flee, the smaller one helping the larger one limp along.

Transforming while in sunlight was excruciating, but Claudia forced herself to do it, knowing that failing to bring Lord Izarde what he had tasked her with retrieving would be more painful yet... not because of anything Lord Izarde would do to her, but simply because she would have disappointed him, and proved herself as unreliable, which would result in her being in disfavor once the Macbre Court gathered once again... and that was a fate worse than torture! Taking the form of her swarm of bats once again, she swirled around the lifeless body of Dr. Otake, lifting him up and spiriting him along as she dived into the welcome darkness of the elevator shaft, heading for the deeper levels of the building where she could have the peace and time to perform a spell of transportation to return to Lord Izarde's side.

Several green meltdown beams attempted to skewer her during her retreat, but she was able to avoid them, and despite Meltdowner's rage, her AIM Stalker companion was completely unable to track the presence of the strong girl who had assaulted them and injured one of their friends. It appeared that the first engagement between a true member of the Hollow Ones and Academy City, was to be an inconclusive one...

xxx

Translation Notes:

"IYAGUSHKA!" is Russian for "FROG!"

"Le sang revient à la maison!" is French for "Come home blood!"

"Bouclier d'os et de sang!" is French for "Shield of Bone and Blood!"


	12. In Pursuit of the Imaginary

**Author Note:**

NoName: sorry about the mangled French. I'm one of those pitiful one language only kind of guys, so I rely on Google Translate for my brief foreign language excursions, and I know it doesn't always do it in a way someone who is fluent in the language would. If you are fluent, I may send you some phrases and such in the future to figure out the best way to translate it, since most of the Duchess's spells will be in French. As for Level 5's and their marked increase in eccentricity, I feel you have a point. Certainly being eccentric is no indicator of Level.

I guess I meant it more in that even otherwise psychologically stable people, like Misaka, or presumably Anatoly, upon transitioning to Level 5, do seem to suddenly acquire some weird quirks in the process. It may well be that for Anatoly that he is in the process of transitioning from 4 to 5 (I have not decided for sure yet), as the boundaries between a strong 4 and a weak 5 are not very precisely defined. But the acquisition of new and often somewhat ridiculous eccentricites might be one flag to mark such a boundary. At least in my mind. Though for Anatoly, his little issue is mostly going to be played for laughs. It should certainly make for some... interesting... interactions with Mikoto Misaka as time goes on.

As for how strong Claudia was, well as is often the case with Espers meeting Magic for the first time, they were severely hobbled by their inability to understand what she was and how her powers worked. And they still managed to fight her off while suffering fairly light casualties. Future rematches between those characters will be interesting to see, as the boundary lines between the sides of Magic and Esper become blurred for more and more characters. Though in truth, Claudia's strengths actually lie outside the battlefield... she just has the advantage of being an Elder Vampire, which gives her combat ability well above her inclinations for the subject.

xxxx

 **Academy City, October 2nd, District 3, ACME's Hotel, Morning**

 _At least he's not late this time._ Kuroko grudgingly acknowledged, as she waited in the lobby of the hotel for ACME's Espers to arrive. The Trog was waiting with her, having arrived more or less on time unlike the last time, though he'd still been red in the face, sweaty and out of breath, hardly a paragon of composure. But then, why would she expect the Trog to be anything but Troggish? He clearly had not a care in the world for things like class, or decorum, or refinement! He was slapdash, reckless to the point of insanity, thick headed, crude, unintelligent, perverted, aggravating, whiny, and cheap. She honestly could not see any quality or factor in him that lifted him above the sorts of dregs and delinquents she was all too familiar with in sending to the Reformatories during her Judgement work. Which made it all the more annoying... no, INFURIATING... that her beloved Onee-Sama was so obviously caught up in this trashy boy! Horror of horrors, she even appeared INFATUATED with him sometimes! It was completely inexplicable... were it not impossible due to her electric field barrier, Kuroko would have almost thought it was some sort of mind control at work, perhaps a cruel trick by the Queen to embarrass her Onee-Sama for some perceived slight!

The boy in question was currently obliviously texting on his phone, giving Kuroko plenty of opportunity to alternately glare at him and appraise him. He wore a standard high school uniform from an unexceptional school, blakc trousers, white shirt, black jacket, though he had the jacket open a few buttons, either to help himself cool down after sprinting to his duties as a Guide, or simply because he had no regard for dress codes. It was within her remit as a Judgement officer to reprimand him on that score, but Kuroko held back from doing so. The less she spoke to the Trog, the better she would feel. And to castigate him over something as minor as that would be petty anyway. Especially when she KNEW there were much worse breaches of City Rules he was guilty of... by his own blathering admission even!

Unfortunately she hadn't been able to follow up on any of that just yet... after the Terrorist attack, Judgement had been on high alert, with all resources devoted towards ensuring the safety of students and the civilian population, and there was no time or effort to be spared in a personal project investigating the sins of a single male high school student. But Kuroko wasn't about to forget about this illegal female roommate of his, oh no, definitely not. And if he was so brazenly breaking the underage fraternization and lodging rules, then who knew what other crimes and perfidious conduct he had hidden in his record... she was looking forward to finding out, and laying it all bare in front of Onee-Sama, and proving once and for all that the boy was simply no good, and that clearly the only person Onee-Sama could rely on to guard her delicate heart was Kuroko, her one true love!

She had received a commendation in her file, one of a cluster she had and mostly ignored, as fame was not her reason for being in Judgement, due to her efforts to quell that Terrorist attack with minimal civilian casualties. Not zero civilian casualties, unfortunately, but though Kuroko was sad that she had not been able to save those students, she was also realistic enough to realize that there probably wasn't much she could have done. Such a well armed and apparently well planned Terrorist attack, using technology she still couldn't figure out to smuggle their weapons past the City's security systems... they had done everything they could, but sometimes that just wasn't enough. The world was unfair and cruel like that sometimes. Even in Academy City. Certainly she had gone over her performance in her head, and before her seniors in Judgement, time and again, looking for the slightest flaw or mistake in her actions, and she could not find anything she should have or would have done different.

After disabling the firearms of the nearest terrorists via her spikes, she had then prevented a recently disarmed terrorist from suicide bombing the platform with hand grenades. Realizing that these were no common thugs or criminals like she was used to dealing with, she had immediately stepped back to allow Onee-Sama the freedom to do what had to be done with her vastly greater and more suitable power. Kuroko was fully capable of engaging and defeating multiple targets at once, especially if all they had were guns and not Esper powers. But Onee-Sama could do it much faster and safer, as given the apparent fanaticism of the terrorists, Kuroko felt that she would not be able to stop them even if she spiked their limbs down directly, which was about as much force as she was comfortable using on a living being. The use of deadly force to stop an incident was a last resort only legally allowed to Anti-Skill after all, not Judgement, and they were welcome to it in her opinion.

Though she had noticed that the ACME Esper, Sergeant Sherman, had not hestitated to use deadly force on one of the terrorists, the one that had attempted to blow them all up. She was aware that the ACME Espers were allowed to use whatever force necessary to ensure their personal safety, to the limit of not causing permanent harm or death to residents of the City as part of their visitors contract with the City, but that left a little grey area where the terrorists fit, as they were illegals, not residents of the city, and had been clearly attempting to kill the ACME soldiers along with everyone else. One one hand his decisive action had put paid to a serious threat to all their lives. On the other, he had killed someone to do it, and without hesitation. Perhaps that was the resolve of a true military soldier, versus a law enforcement officer like herself. However she had also noticed that he had only returned to the engagement after first ensuring the safety of the disabled JD by getting him out of the immediate line of fire, and of that action she could only approve. It showed clear headedness under pressure and the right set of priorities. She could and did respect that.

The same of course could not be said of the Trog, who rather than stepping back and letting Onee-Sama handle things like he should have, had recklessly and foolishly charged at the enemies as if he intended to punch them all unconscious by himself. A brave action? Kuroko didn't think so. Charging a group of fanatics with automatic firearms barehanded, and without even an Esper power to use? That was only foolhardy, perhaps even suicidal! That the Trog had survived his folly was surely due entirely to Onee-Sama's quick action and incredible skill with her ability. Kuroko hadn't been there to watch though... once she felt Onee-Sama had things in hand, she immediately started teleporting around to clear out the remaining civilians in the plaza, rescuing those who were trapped, and ensuring that both Judgement and Anti-Skill were informed of the situation as it developed so they could properly respond. By the time she'd gotten the wider situation stabilized, Onee-Sama had taken care of the terrorists, though there were some irregularities... the terrorist that Sherman had shot was gone, only a pile of dirty wet ashes in his place, for one, and Onee-Sama looked shaken and was even mildly wounded from a cut on her cheek!

Of course getting scraped and cut and banged up in a fight was unavoidable, even for a Level 5, but there had been a neatness to the cut that Kuroko was familiar with... it looked more like the wound coused by a sharp blade or maybe a claw, than the sort of gash one would get from flying debris or the like. Though how anyone could get so close as to physically harm her Onee-Sama while she was using her power to keep them away, Kuroko could not understand. She was something of an expert in trying to get close to Onee-Sama despite her power, and even as a teleporter she only rarely managed it, and then only because Onee-Sama knew she was not a threat. But Onee-Sama didn't want to talk about it. She didn't want to talk about much of anything lately actually. Kuroko, as the one closest to her Onee-Sama's heart and soul, obviously knew the cause. Onee-Sama was beating herself up for not being able to save everyone. It was stupid, but also endearing. That's just the sort of amazing person her Onee-Sama was after all.

But there was a note of especial discord in the bittersweet symphony of her Onee-Sama's feelings since the incident. SOMETHING had happened to Onee-Sama after she got to the hospital and was checked out and got her cheek patched up. Kuroko had been too busy with her Judgement duties to maintain an escort of Onee-Sama, a mistake she was still kicking herself about. But whatever it was, it had affected her Onee-Sama like nothing Kuroko had ever seen before. Onee-Sama had been so furious, yet also so hurt, crying helpless tears even as she shouted and kicked and punched the environment of their dorm room indiscriminantly. The tantrum... despite the perjorative word, Kuroko could think of no other way to describe it... had lasted for several hours before Onee-Sama wore out whatever emotional issue had led her to be in such a state. And then she tried to act like it hadn't happened, like Kuroko hadn't been there, appalled and worried in the corner of the room the whole time, while getting that steely but secretive look on her face that Onee-Sama had when she was determined to do something but didn't want to get anyone else involved in for some reason. And she refused to be drawn on the subject no matter what Kuroko tried!

They had a group outing with Saten and Uiharu planned later that day, just a normal group outing amongst the four of them, a chance to get back to their normal daily routines. That was how she'd pitched it to Onee-Sama anyway, and thankfully Onee-Sama seemed only too eager to accept that. But Kuroko hoped that maybe Uiharu or Saten would be able to get Onee-Sama to open up about whatever it was that was bothering her. It pained her that Onee-Sama wouldn't trust it to Kuroko herself, since there was no one in all the world who was more loyal to Onee-Sama's confidences than Kuroko was, but for the good of her Onee-Sama she was willing to just be one of several friends to help her, not the sole pillar of strength for Onee-Sama to rely on in tough times. After all it wasn't like Kuroko didn't already know absolutely everything there was to know about her Onee-Sama... even her most secret and private activities that she got up to in the dorm when Kuroko was supposedly asleep or in the bathroom. _No, focus damn it... no time for day dreams..._ Kuroko chided herself.

Though Onee-Sama would neither confirm nor deny, or even entertain the subject at all, Kuroko had a suspicion that whatever had driven Onee-Sama into such a frenzy likely had something to do with the Trog. He'd been at the same hospital after all... she'd checked the records to confirm that. And because, of course it must be something to do with the Trog... in Kuroko's recent experience, only the Trog could get under Onee-Sama's perfect skin like that, damn him to hell! She had no idea what sort of horrible thing he had done or said to Onee-Sama, but she could not forgive it! Especially in a time of vulnerability such as the wake of the terror attack! A time when even Onee-Sama needed support and validation from the people around her... and the Trog had trampled on her feelings or needs somehow! _Unforgiveable! UNFORGIVEABLE!_ Kuroko felt her emotions started to get the better of her as she stared at the Trog's head furiously. He finally seemed to notice her regard, looking up from his phone with a guilty look on his face.

"You've got that disturbing grin on your face again, Shirai. It really makes you look scary, you know? Like you want to hurt me or something." The trog sighed overdramatically. "What is it about my luck that causes pretty girls to always want to attack me so much... such misfortune..."

 _Control yourself, Kuroko! I don't want to raise his guard towards me after all. I still haven't figured out why my power doesn't work on him. As much as I would enjoy teleporting a few metal spikes into various sensitive locations around his body, I must resist the temptation. All I have is hearsay and suspicion at the moment. It would not reflect well on me, or Judgement, or most importantly Onee-Sama, if I attacked him out of the blue without any provocation. Well, without any provocation in the eyes of the law anyway. This trog provokes me simply by daring to exist in the same Solar System as Onee-Sama! Though come to think of it, this could be an opportunity to get a confirmation on some of my suspicions._ Kuroko, with difficulty, managed to school her face back into a polite facade, such as what she used at school. "Is this better?" She asked him, clenching her teeth inside her mouth but maintaining her decorum otherwise.

"I dunno, you still feel a little stiff to me, but at least you don't have a slasher smile anymore." The trog rubbed his spiky head and chuckled weakly. "Is something bothering you? Are you feeling ok? I didn't see what happened to you after that attack last week... are you all right?"

 _This trog is smarter than he looks. How quickly and smoothly he switches tactics, from the brainless brute to the concerned gentleman. How can Onee-Sama hold such a duplicitous person in such regard? Clearly honesty is the best policy... and nobody is more honest about her feelings for Onee-Sama than I am!_ Kuroko groused inside her head. "I am a Judgement officer, do not forget. We receive training to deal with stressful situations and their aftermaths. Your concern is appreciated..." _Die in a fire you oily bastard!_ "... but I assure you, I am sound of mind and balanced of emotion. I would be more worried about you honestly, as a civilian. Such events can causing lasting trauma you know."

"I'm used to them." The trog said with a shrug, before seemingly catching what had slipped out of his mouth. "I mean, I've seen Biri-biri shock more thugs unconcious than you'd think... err... I mean, yeah... it was scary, but it was all over so fast you know..." His posture changed from guilty embarrassment to something more serious and somber. "I hate it that people died. I wish things had turned out differently. I should have been able to do more."

"You are an unarmed civilian level 0... what more could you have done?" Kuroko shook her head. "You did well just to survive mostly unharmed. It may sound harsh, but I feel it is somewhat arrogant for someone without power to ask now, what they could have done more of back then. You would have just got in the way, and potentially made things worse! Sometimes the best thing you can do to help... is to stay out of things and let the experts handle it! Some may think of it as cowardice, but do you not believe it takes a certain form of courage to know when you CANNOT help, and to step back to make room for those who can?"

"I'm not very good at that..." The trog chuckled again, shrugging his soldiers uneasily. "When I see a problem in front of me, I try to solve it. When someone needs help, I help them. I guess I don't really consider if I'm the best man for the job, but any help is better than no help, I think. I just wanna make sure everyone can smile at the end of the day. Even the people who get labelled as the "bad guys". As long as that happens, who helped who, or how much, or whatever, doesn't matter." His expression hardened slightly. "As for being powerless, well, I don't care. Level 0 or not, there's ALWAYS something I can do to help people. Powerlessness is something you have to convince yourself that you suffer from, and I don't believe I've ever been truly powerless. The power to help people comes in many forms... Esper powers are just one of them. That's what I think anyway."

"Well do not blame me if you stick your nose into a place it does not belong while trying to "help" and end up getting yourself killed." Kuroko said in exasperation. _Such high minded idealism, but does he mean it? Can anyone really be that naive and arrogant? Or is he just trying to sound cool? Well it's not going to work on me. You can try and sound as pure and noble as you like Trog, but I know you're dirty and selfish inside!_ "Though this does bring up something I've been wanting to ask. Did you see my Onee-Sama in the hospital after the Attack? Did you say or do anything to her?" Kuroko peered intently at him. He did his best to hide it, and it was a better job than she expected, but he wasn't good enough to hide an expression of guilt and frustration flashing across his face for a moment. _I knew it..._ Kuroko thought savagely to herself.

"Oh Misaka? Yeah, I saw her. We sat together for a little bit, but that was it. I haven't seen her around much lately though... say, if you see her, would you ask her if she's ok for me? I've been worried..." The trog looked away, his entire posture suddenly nervous.

"I can assure you, my Onee-Sama is perfectly fine. There is absolutely no cause for you to worry about her." Kuroko answered with what she felt was admirable calm, considering how she really felt. _You DID something to her, you bastard! I don't know what, but you DID something! You made her cry! You HURT the girl I love more than my own life! I knew you were unsuitable for her from the very beginning, of course, but I never expected you to actually cause her pain and heartbreak like this! Hah, you "just want an ending where everyone can smile" do you? What about Onee-Sama!? She hasn't really smiled in days now! And it's YOUR FAULT! Whatever you said, whatever you did, has distressed Onee-Sama so much she can't even fake a smile lately! Worried about her? I bet you're only worried about what she'll DO to you once she gets out of her funk and realizes what an asshole you are! But don't worry Trog... I'll find a way to deal with trash like you before Onee-Sama has to dirty her hands, just you wait!_

Kuroko felt one of her hands slipping down towards her spike holsters, almost beyond her control, but before she could have a "teleportation accident", the elevators to the lobby dinged, announcing the arrival of the ACME Espers. As part of their own security protocols in the wake of the Attack, the ACME Espers were no longer individually assigned to Guide pairs during the day, but rather were going out in groups of three now. This did have the happy effect, in Kuroko's opinion, that the Guides all got a lot more time off as only two pairs at most of Guides were necessary each day. That meant less time in the Trog's company doing her absolute best not to murder him. Just her foul luck that their number would come up on the duty roster again so soon after the Attack. She maybe could have begged off with the excuse of Judgement duties, but as much as she hated being around the Trog, she also knew it was valuable information gathering time... if she was going to protect Onee-Sama from him, she had to know as much as possible about the enemy to do it!

Only three ACME Espers appeared to be going out today, and Kuroko momentarily held out hope that the other Guide pair, students from one of the universities, would be chosen, but no such luck. The three ACME Espers headed right towards her and the Trog, as if pulled by a string. It was the Level 5, Major Findley, with her dark ebon skin and black hair, tall and muscular and imposing, yet with an undeniable aura of feminine power that Kuroko with her finely tuned sense for feminine beauty, could easily detect. She did not have the aura of an "Ojou-Sama", such as Kuroko was used to seeing around Tokiwadai, despite Major Findley only being a few years older than her. There was a hardness and a noble weariness to her that bespoke of a life full of challenges overcome, rather than the soft and privileged and dainty upbringing of an Ojou-Sama. She was more like a Warlord-Sama, experienced and holding great intelligence and wisdom behind her gaze. Kuroko actually hadn't met that many Level 5's other than the two at her school, and the Number 7 once or twice... experiences better left unremembered, in her opinion... but despite her obvious biases, she could not help but admit that the ACME Level 5 was an impressive person.

Major Findley was flanked on either side by two of her lower ranked compatriots... Kuroko was still struggling to get the ranks right, and learn to recognize who was what rank. It was the other female ACME Esper, the short and pixie looking one with freckles and pale skin and red hair. Melanie Nordstrom, Kuroko recalled. And then the scruffy looking guy who was always talking to himself. William E. MacTire, she thought it was. She was ok with the names, it was just the military ranks that confused her. She thought she recalled that both Nordstrom and MacTire were Level 3's, but what rank that correlated to she did not know. Kuroko felt her spine stiffening under the judging grey gaze of the ACME Level 5, an unconscious reaction as she held herself straighter. Oh yes, this one was definitely a Level 5 who knew what sort of effect she had on people. Well, on normal people anyway... the Trog somehow managed to remain partly slouched and with a baffled looking aura about him as the ACME group approached them.

"Greetings, honored gue..." Kuroko began to introduce herself.

"You're Touma Kamijou?" Major Findley cut across Kuroko without even glancing at her, causing her to face fault for a moment, Findley looking at the Trog with assessing eyes.

"Yes... that's me..." The Trog answered, clearly uncomfortable, as all three ACME's stared at him. Major Findley was cold and judging, her face giving nothing away of what she was thinking or feeling, Nordstrom was curious and a little nervous but seemed inclined to be friendly, and MacTire was oddly covetous mingled with a sour note of befuddlement, like there was something wrong with the Trog but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. All three of them had yet to even glance in Kuroko's direction, as if she was just part of the background. Being ignored in favor of the Trog was a new experience for her, and one she did not enjoy.

"Excellent. You will be our city guide for the day." Major Findley said, her decisive tone brooking not even the beginnings of argument or protest. "Sergeant Sherman spoke highly of you, both before and after the Terrorist Attack incident, so I decided to see for myself what sort of man you are. So I will accompany you, along with Lieutenant's Nordstrom and MacTire." Findley made a sudden and very formal, if shallow, bow of greeting, which Kuroko returned, still quietly seething at being apparently overlooked. The Trog belatedly remembered manners and bowed as well, more a dip of his head than anything, but Major Findley was clearly impatient to get past the initial formalities and gave no apparent notice. Kuroko was familiar with the intensity of the focus a Level 5 could display when they were interested in something, though for the life of her she could not imagine why Major Findley was interested in the Trog of all people!

"How is the Sergeant? I never got a chance to exchange contact information with him or JD. I'm sorry his first day out in our city had to go so wrong." The Trog inquired, clearly determined to participate in social niceties despite Major Findley clearly indicating she had little patience for it. His mulish resistance clearly took the Major aback for a moment, and Kuroko briefly held out hope that the ACME Esper might wake up and realize what a travesty of a day she was setting herself up for by interacting with the Trog, but no such luck.

"The Sergeant is well. He has been commended for his actions, and he did his duty, protecting himself and JD, as well as assisting you and the Railgun in defeating the Terrorists. No member of ACME could ask for higher praise. As for JD, he remains stable. All the excitement was messing with his drug regime slightly, but it's all under control now, and things are back to normal." Major Findley replied, updating the Trog on the information he had asked for, more like giving a report, her tones clipped and precise, rather than the more informal conversational pattern used when talking about mutual acquaintances. Kuroko was annoyed though, that her own presence and actions during the Terrorist incident went unremarked. Everyone would have been in trouble if she hadn't got those grenades out of there! She wasn't looking for praise, but it would be nice to at least be included in the report! Especially when the Trog, who had done little but get in the way, was referred to in the same breath as Onee-Sama, even listed FIRST, as if he had done more!

"With the uncertain security situation in the City, the Sergeant and JD will be staying behind in the hotel for the next few days, under guard by Captain Radcliffe and Captain Lawe. You need not concern yourself with them further, though I will pass on your regards and your request for personal contact information to the Sergeant later today." Major Findley once more attempted to end the social niceties under no uncertain terms. "If you would please, escort us to your school, we wish to begin our tour there today."

"Certainly." Kuroko cut in before the Trog could say anything. She had been expecting this for a while now of course. Tokiwadai was famous across the world after all, it was only natural that ACME would want to visit it to see why it was so successful, and bask in the glory of her Onee-Sama, and to a lesser extent, the Queen. "We can find a bus to the School Garden right outside the hotel. Classes for the day are already started, but I'm sure the teachers will..."

"Not your school. His school." Major Findley cut her off in turn, leaving Kuroko gaping like a goldfish for a moment, and the Trog was only slightly less baffled by his expression. "Well, Mr. Kamijou? Lead on..."

xxxx

 **On the way to a Certain High School**

Adelaide was aware that she was being rude to the girl from Tokiwadai, that she was letting her sense of curiousity and her frustrations with the enigmas of the data she'd been going over for days now from the Terror attack was coloring her interactions with both of the Guides. Under normal conditions, the weight of her interactions between the two Guides would be completely reversed. Kuroko Shirai was a level 4 Teleporter from Tokiwadai, the heiress of a successful Cruise Ship franchise that operated in the Asian part of the Pacific Ocean, though recently its business share had shrunk due to competition from Kongou Aerospace. She was smart, sophisticated, wealthy, and well known for her hero worship of a certain Level 5, who by all accounts also happened to be her best friend, and maybe even potential romantic partner. There were only a few level 4 Teleporters in all the world as far as Adelaide knew, and all of them were in Academy City... the highest level Teleporter ACME had was only Level 2. It was a rare and flexible power with incalculable military applications, and normally speaking she would be pumping the tawny haired girl for all the information she could collect, on herself and on the Railgun.

But for all its rarity and possible applications, teleportation was still a known power, and Teleporters a well documented Esper phenomenon. And all the information and connections Kuroko Shirai might offer would still be available further down the road... the Kamijou boy on the other hand, was a much more recent intelligence development and Adelaide was determined to strike while the iron was hot, before the boy and his inconsistencies got lost in the bureaucratic shuffle once more. Besides, according to Sergeant Sherman, this Kamijou boy was romantically involved with the Railgun, and Adelaide knew that lovers were apt to share secrets with one another that even best friends were not privy to... such as perhaps the Railgun's true power limits, rather than her merely observed ones. She knew this from training, not personal experience, but that training was very thorough and had not steered her wrong yet. And while their intelligence reports did list that Kuroko Shirai possessed strong romantic feelings for the Railgun, all reports were quite conclusive in stating that the Railgun's sexual and romantic preferences seemed to be entirely heterosexual, so it was just a one sided infatuation, of little use to ACME.

Adelaide did not care one way or another... she gave little enough thought to her sexuality, preferring to focus on developing her Power and assisting her subordinates in developing theirs. If pressed, she would perhaps admit to not having made up her mind about girls or boys... there were advantages and disadvantages to both orientations in her opinion. But regardless of her own lack of experience, she had been trained to recognize how romantic and sexual feelings could be used to gain information from people, often without them realizing it. However, she was not a dedicated intelligence analyst by training... that was why she had brought Melanie along, as she was specifically trained in intelligence analysis, as suited her particular Esper ability, Perspective Shift. Wiley on the other hand, was an expert in Esper studies, his Black Box power granting him great research abilities, so if anyone could figure out what kind of power Touma Kamijou actually had, it would be him. They were her two best subordinates for figuring out complex situations and deciphering incomplete data.

Kurt's power, Stealth Bomber, was well suited for gathering intelligence and espionage actions, but he was trained more as a field operative, rather than an analyst. He found the info, it was up to other people to understand it. Vince and Adelaide herself were front line combatants. They had cross training in intelligence matters, as all ACME Espers did, but only enough to be basically familiar with it. Jonathon had no power to speak of, but was resourceful and a reliable caretaker for JD, freeing up the other Espers for more important duties. And JD himself... well, he was a safety measure. In his quiescent state, he was no threat to anyone, and was a burden more than anything. Should his awakening ever be required though... well, Adelaide just hoped she would be far, FAR away if that scenario came to pass.

Adelaide watched Touma Kamijou as they made their way along the City sidewalks towards his school. Apparently the boy preferred to walk rather than take public transportation. Though walking at times felt like wasteful drudgery to Adelaide, since she was able to fly as fast as a fighter jet when she wanted to go somewhere, she knew that for most people walking was the only and most comfortable way to get around. She pitied them at times. So far in the short time she had know Kamijou, it had been difficult for her to make up her mind about him. He seemed entirely ordinary most of the time, just a random civilian boy. But then there were the times when he betrayed all expectations... such as when she had first spoken to him. She had been in full on Level 5 serious mode then, and it was a rare person indeed who could resist her not so subtle hints to get the borning formalities over with. Most people were only too happy to get away from her when she was like that. But not only was Kamijou apparently not intimidated by her, he'd actually treated her like a normal person, insisting upon inquiring about Sergeant Sherman and JD, as if their well being and safety was of more importance than the Level 5 in front of him. Which as her subordinates, she could appreciate such concern... it just was rarely displayed to her in such a fashion.

"What is your power anyway?" Adelaide decided to go the direct route, testing whether the boy would lie to her or not. "What ability is Academy City attempting to develop in you?" She clarified, just in case he tried to wriggle out of it by saying he had no Power. She knew he was a Level 0, but that just meant that his ability was mostly imperceptible... instruments could still detect the broad category of power, even if it did not individually manifest in ways humans could detect. After all, if the Esper Programs didn't know what branch of science to direct the Esper to study, how could they possibly progress in their calculative ability solely by trial and error?

"I have no ability. The Esper development program has no effect on me whatsoever." Kamijou replied with a shrug, as if that was either possible or that it did not bother him in the slightest.

"That is categorically impossible." Wiley countered, shaking his head in denial. "While we of course do not know the exact details of the Academy City Esper Development program, it by nature shares similarities with the one ACME uses. And the basic premise of the program is that it can awake Esper power in any human being the process is applied to. Most people may never manifest their power in any noticeable way, but for the process to not work at all? That cannot be. All the science points to that being impossible."

"I don't know what to tell you. I have no Esper ability. I don't even have an AIM Diffusion Field from what they tell me. Of all the Level 0's in this City, I am the most 0. I am the absolute 0, you could say." Kamijou shrugged again. He appeared sincere to Adelaide, but she had the feeling that he was omitting something all the same... but she wasn't sure what to ask to coax that information out of him.

"You must be some sort of freak of nature then..." Wiley muttered, intent eyes looking Kamijou up and down like he was something he'd never seen before and wasn't sure what to make of.

"Wiley!" Melanie chided her fellow lieutenant. "Excuse him, he doesn't know how to talk to people sometimes."

"It's ok. I guess it is kinda freaky, from a certain perspective." Kamijou let out a sigh that contained a wealth of emotional information that Adelaide could not decipher.

"Why are you even in this City then?" Adelaide asked, puzzled. She didn't believe what Kamijou said about himself was possible, but if it somehow was, why even stay in Academy City? The whole point of coming here was to become an Esper after all. If that was impossible for him, surely he would be happier elsewhere, living a normal life, away from Espers?

"I don't know, honestly. This place just feels like the place I'm supposed to be, you know? Not home per se, but like it. I've lived here for most of my life actually... it's just... its where I live, can't explain it better than that." Kamijou answered, with yet another shrug. He seemed to be good at them.

"You don't feel left out? Forgotten about? Are you not picked on or teased for your powerlessness?" Melanie was plainly having difficulty understanding his apparent contentment with his strange situation, and Adelaide did not blame her.

"As I said to someone else earlier today..." Kamijou glanced aside at Shirai, who was simply walking alongside them, apparently sulking at being largely ignored. "Lacking an Esper power doesn't make you Powerless. The power to make a difference in this world doesn't come from supernatural abilities, though as Espers I know it is probably easy for you to lose sight of that. And I don't hold it against you, even when I think you're limiting yourselves when you only think about what your Ability can do, and not what YOU can do."

"So you think we're limited? That two level 3's, a level 4 and me, a Level 5, we're limiting ourselves to less than our true potential, just because we have Abilities? Don't you think that's backwards? And insulting?" Adelaide asked, more curious than offended. This was a perspective she had not encountered before, and while she wasn't sure if it was idealistic naivety or actually something with a worthy basis in reality, it was still interesting. This whole conversation was unlike most of which she experienced in her life.

"Not necessarily you in specific... I don't know you after all, so I can't judge... but generally speaking, I do think that about Espers as a whole. You can create fireballs or lift things with your minds, or unleash enough lightning to black out entire city blocks, or teleport around... do such amazing, incredible things like its no big deal. And don't get me wrong, I know it's not easy. I can't make heads or tails of the Power Development Curriculum, but I do know you have to be seriously smart to understand it, and that it's hard on both the mind and the body to develop and train an Esper power, especially to higher Levels. I just feel its like that one saying... that once you have a really nice hammer, suddenly all the problems in the world look like things to be nailed down..."

"As for being forgotten or left out, not hardly. I have friends all over this city, from Level 0's like me, to Level 5's like Biri-Biri... err, Misaka. Me being a Level 0 has never prevented me from being happy, or helping out my friends and anyone else who needs it, when required. Sometimes, being a Level 0 comes in handy even. And if people want to make fun of me for being weak as an Esper, well, I guess they can, but I don't care. This may be the wrong city in the world to say this in, but being an Esper isn't everything." Kamijou smiled, and sincerity practically radiated off of him. Adelaide found herself admiring that much at least, even if she still felt like she would never really understand what he meant. But even if his ideals were foolish or wrong, at least he believed them with his whole heart, and was not afraid to put them out there to be challenged. That was a refreshing change of pace from most Level 0's in her experience, who were generally only too happy to bitch and moan and whine and backstab and cheat to gain any possible advantage for climbing up the ladder of Esper power. The Sergeant being an exception to that rule, and now Kamijou as well apparently.

"What IS the exact nature of your relationship to the Railgun?" Adelaide asked, keying in on Kamijou's slight verbal misstep a moment ago. She noticed that Shirai seemed very interested in this answer as well.

"We're friends, that's all. We run into each other around the city now and then." Kamijou answered, clearly doing his best to be casual, but failing. "And I've helped her out when she had a problem or two in the past, I guess."

"Yet you have an apparently affectionate nickname for her? Biri-biri?" Melanie asked, an uncomfortable look on her face. She couldn't imagine addressing Adelaide by some sort of cutesy nickname at least.

"She really doesn't like it, but it's just so appropriate. Though she liked "Bug Zapper" even less I guess, though given how often she zaps people that bug her, I thought it was funny at least."

"So you TEASE her with nicknames and veiled insults regarding her power. Apparently to her face. " Wiley stared in bemusement. "And yet you are apparently still alive, and at least sound of body, though your mind continues to make me wonder! You two must be very close friends indeed then." Wiley shook his head in disbelief. "That would be like me referring to the Major as "Tryhard Blowhard" just because she's a Wind user who is always focused on her power development. You sir, are a braver young man than I, to say such a thing where a Level 5 could hear you."

"I just heard you say that, Wiley." Adelaide pointed out, a sudden wind springing up from nowhere around them as she quirked a brow.

"Merely an example, Major, to illustrate how incredibly risky and informal his methods of interaction with the Railgun really are... are you some sort of masochist, Mr. Kamijou? From what I have heard about the Railgun and her temper, it is surprising to me that she simply would accept this teasing from you without comment or attempt to correct your behavior."

"Well, maybe she does chase me around now and then, wanting to fight me and stuff. She's pretty fast, for a Middle Schooler... but I have a lot of experience running away from troublesome situations, so I can usually evade her eventually. But no, I don't enjoy pain, and I don't seek it out." Kamijou corrected his earlier statement.

"Ah, so when a Level 5 challenges you to a duel, you choose to flee. Maybe you aren't as crazy as I thought." Wiley muttered. "Though I would think the Railgun would be able to prevent your escape by a variety of methods if she was seriously pursuing you."

"When most people challenge me to a fight, I run. I don't enjoy fighting. Especially when I'm outnumbered, or facing down a high level Esper, which is usually what happens."

"But last week when those Terrorists attacked... you did not flee then. Just the opposite... you hurled yourself headlong into close quarters combat, without hesitation!" Melanie pointed out in confusion. "Despite having a Level 4 and a Level 5 right there with you, you charged in and started punching hostiles..."

"That was different. There was nowhere to run, and people were in danger. I'll run away to save my own life if that's what's at stake. But I won't abandon people when they're in danger and I have some ability to protect them, regardless of who they are! Everyone deserves to be protected, even Level 5's!" Kamijou declared fervently.

"So if someone threatened me, you would come protect me?" Adelaide queried, trying to stifle a laugh of disbelief.

"I would. I'll help anyone who needs it. I would do everything I could to save you." Kamijou stated resolutely.

"And you find nothing incongruous about declaring an intent to interfere in the business of a Level 5 who could level entire City blocks with her power, despite your own total lack of any power beyond what is within your own body naturally? You so blithely declare that you will save me, protect me from harm, like it's something you can do just as easily as that? Do you even KNOW what kind of threats and challenges a Level 5 faces, Mr. Kamijou? Can you even dream of what someone like me considers actually DANGEROUS... and you say you'll just come and protect me from it, just like that? You certainly have an awfully high opinion of yourself, Mr. Kamijou. I can't tell whether to admire that, or feel insulted." Adelaide said, wind blowing around her, tugging at clothing and pushing hair into disarray, threatening to flip up Shirai's skirt until the girl teleported a bit further away. "Is it because I'm female? Is that it? Do you doubt my ability to protect myself, just because I'm the "weaker" gender?" She went on, both Melanie and Wiley backing away now as well, leaving her staring down Kamijou on the sidewalk with several dozen feet of empty space around them.

"It's got nothing to do with your gender or your Esper level." Kamijou snapped, displaying frustration as well as remarkable self possession, given her current threat display, in Adelaide's opinion. He stood almost at parade rest, his right hand held behind his body by his left, facing her from only feet away. "Though this does tie in to what I was saying earlier... as a high level Esper, you always think with your Ability first! Like there's no possibility I could help you with something your Ability is no good for! Not all salvation is from physical threats, Major. But yes, even if it was a physical threat, I would still come and save you. Even from yourself, if need be." Kamijou winced, his hair and clothes flying wildly now, as the localized windstorm around them got ten times more intense, wind threatening to pick him up off his feet and bowl him backwards. His eyes watered from the wind blast, but he neither looked down nor away, meeting Adelaide's glare with a confident grin of his own.

"You are a nervy one, aren't you? HAH!" Adelaide barked a quick laugh, though she wasn't sure if she was actually amused or if it was something else. "Don't you realize what I can do to you, just by thinking it? The Railgun isn't around right now you know, there's nobody near that can stop me from teaching you a little lesson about getting ideas above your station, you know!"

"If you really are the kind of person who thinks Might makes Right, then go ahead and try." Kamijou's grin faded into a determined scowl, his eyes narrowed and cold. "But if that's the path you're determined to walk, I will break that messed up illusion of yours..." He took his hands out from behind hs back and swiped his right hand through the air in front of him, like he was casting a gauntlet or shutting an invisible door in her face. A sound like glass shattering rang out from nowhere, and suddenly all the wind was completely gone. "... like it's nothing at all." Touma finished, turning on his heel and stalking off, leaving a stunned Adelaide, Wiley, Melanie and Kuroko in his wake.

xxxx

 **Outside a Certain High School**

 _Damn, damn, damn, DAMN! ARRGH, I can't believe I did that! I can't believe I lost my temper like that!_ Touma berated himself, leaning against the wall that bordered the school grounds. It wasn't like him to rise to the taunts of others, unless they were threatening innocent people in the process. Normally he preferred to avoid drama, even when in the midst of battle. He might argue with an opponent, especially if they were being foolish or short sighted, or so that he could figure out what the underlying cause of their actions was in the first place. In his experience, once the underlying cause was addressed, there was no longer a need to fight. People just turned to violence because it was easy, or they were afraid, or because they thought no one cared enough to help them. Well, he was there to prove those kinds of people dead wrong!

But despite keeping more or less calm in much more life and death circumstances than what he'd just faced, he'd snapped at Major Findley when she started harrassing him about whether or not he could or even should protect her. Her windstorm was unpleasant certainly, but no moreso than Misaka when she got all sparky and electrically charged her surroundings. And he hadn't felt a serious threat from the ACME Level 5... deep down inside he knew she was just trying to scare him, trying to intimidate him into backing down from his stated ideals. He was familiar with such tactics. Misaka had given him a college level course in them on that bridge on the night of the last Level 6 Shift Experiment. But while Touma had a healthy sense of fear and self preservation, he never backed down from what was Right, especially not when the lives of other people were at stake. Perhaps in a normal circumstance he would have backed down from Major Findley earlier. It wasn't like he particularly cared about her opinion of him. She wasn't the worst Level 5 he'd met, but she certainly wasn't one of the ones he felt like he wanted to spend too much free time around either.

But he was still sore and sensitive from the argument with Misaka about this very topic in the wake of the Terror Attack. _I should have phrased it differently, found a better way to tell her what I felt, what I meant._ Touma growled to himself, though for the life of him he wasn't sure how he could make his feelings on the matter more clear to Misaka, than he already had. No, clarity wasn't the issue. He needed to find a way to tell her that didn't make her feel like he didn't trust her. That he wasn't hiding knowledge of Magic from her because he didn't think she could handle it, that she wasn't trustworthy enough for that secret. Given the secrets of hers that they shared, Touma figured there was hardly any way for either of them to be any MORE in each other's confidence than they were. _It's not that I don't trust her with it, or that I don't think she can handle it. Its because I know her, and once she gets her foot in this door, she'll plunge headlong into the pits of hell, like Index once put it. And she won't be ready, and I might not be able to be there to help her. And her Esper power won't save her... not against some of what the Magic side can bring to bear._

 _Damn it all! I wish I could just tell her that I'm keeping her out of it because I just care about her too much! But that would open entirely too many more cans of worms than I can deal with. Why can't she just let me protect her? It's not like I ask her for favors very often, do I? Can't she just let it be? Can't she just let it be my problem while she enjoys her life? Gaaaaaaahhhh! This is so frustrating! I know I did the right thing, shutting her down when she tried to pry into Magic side stuff... but I feel like such a shithead for doing it all the same! It's not fair!_ Touma punched the side of his right fist into the wall by his side. It did nothing but make his hand hurt of course, since the wall was just a wall, neither Esper nor Magic. "Who am I kidding?" He said out loud, casting his eyes up at the wide blue side. "I did it cause I'm a selfish coward at heart. Cause I can't bear the thought of her being endangered because of me. Even if it hurts her, I choose what was best for me... damn it, I'm so worthless..."

"Talking to yourself, Kami-Yan? A sign of a guilty conscience?" A familair voice asked cheerfully from the other side of the school wall.

"Yeah, mayb... hey! Tsuchimikado!? How long have you been there!? Don't sneak up on me when I'm having a private moment!" Touma shouted, pulling himself up the wall to glare down at his blond haired friend on the other side. "How much of that did you hear!?"

"Oh I dunno... is it important? Were you saying things you shouldn't, Kami-Yan?" Tsuchimikado replied with his usual insouciance, seeming like nothing in the whole world could make him serious. Though Touma knew that was hardly the case, though if anything, Tsuchimikado remaining so casual and irritating was a good sign. It meant he probably wasn't seeking him out because of Magic Side issues, at least. His day was bad enough as it was, he didn't want more trouble right now.

"I will beat you up!" Touma threatened, though he knew that if he did, it would only be because Tschimikado let it happen.

"Talking about one of your girlfriends were you? That's all I got out of it." Tsuchimikado answered teasingly. "Have a spat with a member of the harem did we? It can happen, when the harem grows as large as yours is..."

"I have no girlfriend, damn you! And I have even less of a harem, you're delusional!" Touma pulled himself up and over the wall, dropping down on the other side beside his aggravating friend. "Hey, if you had a friend who was asking questions about the Magic side, and you wanted to keep them away from it, how would you tell them to stay away, without hurting their feelings?"

"I'd make up some sort of absolutely ridiculous lie that was blatantly false and pretend it was real at all costs, mixing up the facts of the situation so much that they'd never be able to tell what was real and what was bullshit, until they got so annoyed with me that they beat me up and then stormed off having forgotten about what they were interested in, in the first place." Tsuchimikado paused and grinned sardonically. "But that takes brains and composure and stuff, as well as a duplicitous nature, so I guess that puts it out of your reach, eh Kami?"

"I don't even know why I asked. The only times you help me are when I don't realize it until it's too late." Touma shook his head in mock despair and sighed heavily.

"Aren't you supposed to be doing something today? Aren't you one of the City Guides for ACME?" Tsuchimikado asked curiously. "Why are you here all by yourself? What, did you accidentally de-pants the Zephyr Queen and have to flee for your life?"

"Don't jinx me, you bastard! You know how my luck goes!" Touma groused back. "No, though we did have a little confrontation. She was trying to get a rise out of me for some reason and I overreacted and then stomped off to cool down, and since they wanted to come here for some reason anyway, I was already in the area, so I came here. Aww, shit. Shirai is gonna KILL me. She's really serious about properly fulfilling the duties of a City Guide... and I just up and ran away from my tour group. She already seems to hate me, though I can't figure out why."

"She probably thinks that you're trying to add the Railgun to your harem, and isn't about to stand for it. Its a love triangle, Kami..."

"Whatever. I don't have a harem, and I'm not trying to put the moves on Misaka. Not that I have any moves."

"Indeed. Kami-Yan Disease spreads without any effort on your part. I'm actually surprised the ACME Espers have not yet fallen prey to it. Perhaps you aren't as contagious as usual while you're mopey."

"I am NOT mopey!"

"Well you're certainly not angsty. Angsty Kami causes panty evaporation in females in a twenty meter radius, after all, and I don't hear any schoolgirls screaming about their panties right now. But something is clearly bothering you, Kami. You admitted it to me just now. I know how hard it is to actually get a rise out of you... either Major Findley is truly exceptional, or you're grumpy and on edge for some other reason and she just pushed your buttons at the wrong time. Which in and of itself is quite exceptional, since its usually you pushing the girl's buttons wrong, not the other way around."

"Ok, so I had a little fight with Misaka after that Terrorist Attack last week. I slipped up and mentioned that their bags were Magic of some sort and she heard me. By the way, have you got anything on that yet? Usually you tell me about the Magicians before they get as far as a public terrorist attack, and can generally point me in the right direction or at least give me some background." Touma asked curiously, even as he resigned himself to having the story pulled out of him by Tsuchimikado. Though at least Tsuchimikado was someone he could talk to about something like this.

"Fraid not Kami. Whoever these guys are, they're way off the radar. And that has people on the Magic side running around like headless chickens in a burning house, believe it. Doesn't help that all the captured Terrorists up and died while in custody before we could really start turning the screws on them to learn who equipped and sent them." Tsuchimikado replied with his more serious face.

"Died? How? Misaka didn't shock them that hard, and they were taken to the hospital right afterwards anyway. Except for the one guy that Sergeant Sherman shot, and then re-animated as some sort of creature anyway, but I took that one out myself."

"It's weird, Kami. Even by my standards. Apparently they all died of acute radiation poisoning. Their bodies practically dissolved from the inside out... messy, really messy. Painful and drawn out, bleeding from every orifice... but most of them died SMILING, Kami. We're dealing with some real crazy people here, I tell you that. But anyway... your girlfriend the Railgun was wondering about the Magic bags, go on..."

"I will hit you, so hard." Touma grumbled. "Misaka is NOT my girlfriend. But she pounced on my verbal misstep and pressed me hard for info. And I ended up telling her off a bit. She's a Level 5 Esper, the most publicly known Esper in Academy City. The Magic Side wouldn't take her getting involved with their business lying down. Given what I know of how paranoid the Magic side authorities get, they'd send a hit team after her or something, to send some sort of screwed message about respecting the boundary of Magic and Science or something. I couldn't live with myself if that happened because of me. But she didn't see it that way. I think she feels like I don't trust her, or that I think she's too weak to protect herself. But it's not a question of strength! Magic just comes at you in a different sort of way... I bet even Accelerator wouldn't get off unscathed from encountering Magic for the first time. It doesn't play by the rules all the Espers are taught make up how the world works!"

"Did she slap you?"

"What? No. I was going to touc... never mind what I was going to do. I made a friendly gesture and she flinched away from me like I was going to hit her, while giving me a look that still makes my heart ache, and then she stormed off, yelling over her shoulder that she doesn't want me to save her life anymore."

"Well if she didn't slap you, there's still hope for reconciliation. Though Kami, have you really thought this all through? I can't claim to know the Railgun like you do, but I have heard things about her in general. If you won't help her find out what she wants to know, why do you think she'll just let it go at that? She's more than used to figuring things out for herself, and she's pretty good at it. Just look at Radio Noise and Level 6 Shift... she got into those all on her lonesome."

"Of course you know about that stuff." Touma sighed heavily. "Is there anything you don't know?"

"After the fact only, Kami, I promise. And there's tons of stuff I don't know. Foremost amongst them is how you can possibly think you don't have a harem. Or perhaps, how you can be so dense as to not realize why Railgun is really mad at you."

"Ok, fine. Humor me. What am I being dense about here?"

"She loves you, obviously."

"I know that."

"... WHAT!?" Tsuchimikado actually fell over in his shock. "Then why the HELL are you acting so confused, Kami!? And why the HELL do you keep bitching about "oh, I wish I could meet someone", you jerk!?"

"I get that she likes me, as a friend and as more than a friend. She doesn't hide it well, whatever she might think. I just don't get why that has made her more angry than she otherwise would be? Isn't the girl supposed to enjoy being protected by the guy she likes? Even if I can't like her back, for Magic reasons amongst others?" Touma grimaced in confusion.

"Well, for one, I don't know why you're seriously coming to me for relationship advice. And yes, it is a relationship, Kami, just dysfunctional as fuck... mostly because of you. I'm a Spy, a double, triple, quadruple agent. I don't get to fall in love with people, they'd either be trying to get something from me or be used against me. Maika is the best I can do, and it takes everything I got to keep her safe. But if I had to hazard a wild ass guess, I'd say its because you and the Railgun are the same type of people. Meddlesome, nosy, interfering bastards, or bitches, I guess. You both just can't leave well enough alone, no matter how much it hurts you in the end. It's admirable... and a massive pain in the ass, as well. It allows people to take advantage of you... like this City does, using you as its personal anti-magic task force, or her, getting her gene map to make military clones instead of helping cure neurological diseases."

"Get to the point. I know Misaka and I are similar. That's why I admire her so much, or one reason anyway."

"How simplified do I have to make this? If you realize that you two are alike, why can't you put yourself in her shoes!? She likes you. She wants to impress you, so that you will like her back. She does not realize you already do, because you are insistent on acting oblivious because you are afraid that your enemies will target her in order to get to you. So no matter what she does to get your attention, and remember she's a Level 5 who is used to commanding attention pretty much at will... no matter what she does, it never seems to be good enough for you, as she sees it based on your lack of reaction. She hears "I want to protect you" or "I don't want you to get hurt or put in danger" and she translates that as "You're not good enough to stand at my side, you'll just be a burden that I have to watch out for, holding me back". You can tell her you trust her or how strong you think she is as much as you want... but when it comes down to the crunch, you leave her at home to be safe. Actions, Kami, not words. That's what girls pay attention to, when it matters. And your words don't match your actions, regarding her. How would you feel if Index kept you out of all Magic affairs from now on, even though you knew they were happening, in order to keep you safe?" Tsuchimikado grabbed Touma by the collar and pulled him close.

"You bitch about never getting my help, well, here's some free advice, Kami. When non-Magic people encounter Magic that doesn't directly harm or affect them, they respond to it in one of two ways. Either they dismiss it and move on with their lives, which is what most people do, especially Espers... or they question it, try and figure out what it is that they experienced. The first kind of people make up most of the world, and most Espers. They're so grounded in science and the accepted reality of the world, they just can't imagine anything else being possible. But some people have been exposed to the weirdness and the darkness and the screwed up things that happen in the shadows of the world everyone knows. Those kinds of people, they have their minds made a little more flexible by what they go through. A little of their trust in the laws of the world gets shattered. These people question it. Most of them just are plagued by nagging doubts for most of their lives. But some of them have the ability or the motivation to dig deeper. And so they do. And eventually, they figure out Magic... that's how Mages come to be, in the wild."

"Railgun can't become a Mage, obviously. But she's got the nagging doubts, and she has the ability to dig for answers. You don't want her involved in the Magic Side, Kami? Too fucking late, man. She's gonna dig her way in sooner or later, entirely on her own power, and there's nothing you can do to stop her. Aside from maybe punching her out, throwing her over your shoulder, taking her back to your room and tying her to your bed and keeping her there. Which would be pretty kinky, but probably not what you want to do. At this point in time, the choice you have is not whether to keep her ignorant or not, its whether or not once she finds the answers she's looking for, she hates you for getting in her way constantly for no good reason, or respects you for trusting her and supporting her in her quest for knowledge." Tsuchimikado stood, dragging Touma up with him, spinning them around to put Touma's back to the wall and pinning him there.

"You wanna protect Railgun, cause you like her and you're scared because you know how bad things can get once you step over the boundary between worlds. I know that feeling, Kami. I know it way better than you might imagine. I live standing with one foot on either side of that boundary every day. And my little sister, Maika, is right there with me the whole time, though she doesn't realize it, cause she's a hard facts sort of person, who doesn't doubt easily. But if your solution to protecting the people you care about when they start getting involved in dangerous things, is to forbid them from attempting them and actively get in their way when they ask why... you eventually won't have anyone to protect, and certainly no one to love, no matter how much you love the ones you alienated. And Kami, humans ain't meant for that kind of life. It ain't noble. It ain't admirable. It ain't what you want, man."

"What I want? Since when does that enter into it?" Touma held up his right hand demonstratively. "I never wanted this thing, but now that I have it, I wouldn't inflict it on anyone else, so I'm stuck with it. I'm Cursed, and that's not gonna change. You say a man can't live by alienating everyone they care about, but what else can I do? If it's not the Magic, it'll be my misfortune instead. She'll get hurt, or worse, and it'll be my fault." Touma smiled bitterly, before Tsuchimikado's fist plowed into the side of his jaw and nearly knocked him off his feet, were it not for his friend's hand on his collar holding him up.

"Now I know you're feeling good and pitiful, Kami, but you're smarter than that." Tsuchimikado said intensely. "You can't stop people from getting hurt. You ain't God. The only thing you can do is decide whether you're going to be there beside the people you care about when they do get hurt, to help them up again. You know this! And you have to let them be there to help you get up when you get hurt. That's how life works. Anything else isn't really living. At the rate you're going, Railgun is going to investigate Magic by herself... probably already is, knowing her. You're planning to stay out of her way and not help her out any. So she'll do it without you. It'll be harder, and tougher, and more painful for her, but she'll get there in the end. The Magic Side will respond, probably by attempting to take her out in some way. But you won't know about it, because by then she won't be talking to you, and certainly won't bring you in to her problems. So she'll have to face whatever they send all by herself. She's pretty tough... she might not die. Might. And even if she survives, she'll probably resent you all the more, because you were right, and Magic IS too dangerous for her to handle on her own. Nothing more infuriating than discovering your secret crush was right all along, for a girl like her."

"Get it out of your head that you have the option of denying her getting involved, with you or with Magic. That's beyond your control. Never was in your control, once you started making friends with her. So if she's getting involved, with Magic anyway... your personal relationship, I'm not touching... regardless of what you do or want, then what do you think is the correct course of action, as her friend? Should you abandon her? Or should you support her? It really is that easy, Kami. That's the only choice you get. And if you don't make it soon, someone might make it for you... we do have an unknown Magic Cabal loose in the city, and they might reveal Magic to her themselves in a way that's not just a little suspicious like Magic bags. And if you haven't made the right choice before someone else makes the choice for you, then regardless, you'll have made the wrong choice. She might eventually forgive you if that happens. Whether she'll ever trust you again, is another story. But hey, if you want to let her slip through your fingers when she's right there in front of you with her hand extended, I guess it's not my place to judge, you damn fool!. After all, you're Kami-Yan... you'll have girls throwing themselves at you regardless, so what if the one you liked is always out of your reach because you wouldn't trust her, right?"

Tsuchimikado snorted and pushed off of Touma, turning away from him, and straightening his Hawaiian shirt. "I got better things to do with my time than try and explain fucking obvious things to a guy who seems determined to force himself into a life of misery and loneliness that he really doesn't have to face. This world won't ever be perfect, and you can't make it so, Imagine Breaker or not. Whether you want to spend your life on a hopeless crusade for illusionary perfection, or whether you're willing to accept the world as it really is, messy and misfortunate and all, that's your call. Just remember Kami... as your friend, do you really think I can smile, if I know you're not happy yourself? And that goes a hundred times as much for girls who like you... though given how stupid you act, I really do wonder sometimes if Kami-Yan Disease is some sort of brain bug that lowers IQ so they still find you appealing..." Tsuchimakdo waved over his shoulder and started walking off. "I'll be in touch if I hear anything about the new Cabal. See you around, Kami." He walked off, leaving Touma rubbing his cheek and staring after him.

xxxx

 **By the Bank of a Certain River, late afternoon**

Touma sat on the top of the embankment, legs splayed out down the slope as he stared unseeingly at the slowly flowing water, listening to its faint trickle as he wrestled with his thoughts and feelings, as he had been doing for most of the day since his encounter at school with Tsuchimikado that morning. He'd been avoiding people all day since then, turning his phone off, avoiding crowds, even avoiding going home because he didn't want to deal with Index. And because Shirai as a member of Judgement might be able to track him down there. He had no idea what the Tokiwadai girl had done after he'd abandoned the Tour group, but he was already dreading the next time they met. But even that was just a distant concern over what he had sought solitude to mull over. It was unlike Tsuchimikado to be so passionate about anything. He was a cool character, and rarely got heated up about anything. _Was I really that pathetic this morning? I guess maybe I was..._ Touma thought with yet another of what felt like hundreds of sighs he'd made that day.

Intellectually he knew Tsuchimikado was right. The way he'd explained it, it was obvious. It was just his emotions he was struggling with. After losing all his memories, Touma had come to rely less on his mind and more on his heart. Which made this difficult, because his heart was insisting he protect Misaka at any cost, even if she hated him for it. But in his head he knew it didn't have to be that way, and that was so, so tempting! If he had the courage to really, truly trust her. Trust her to understand Magic was dangerous even as she learned about it. Trust her to rely on him when things got rough for her. Trust her to handle his misfortune, regardless of what it put her through as a price for being near him. Well, it was easy to talk about trusting someone. Showing that trust was another story entirely. But could he do that? Was he that strong? Was any high schooler expected to be that strong? He'd never asked for this... but he was facing it anyway. And this wasn't something he could kick down the road, as Tsuchimikado had pointed out.

His feet had carried him all the way out here into the suburbs, more or less on autopilot. He didn't remember this place, but he'd heard about it, in snippets of complaint from Misaka during several of their chase encounters. Apparently they'd fought their one and so far only real "duel" out here. It had apparently ended in a draw with him running away, not that such surprised him. He didn't want to fight her, and while he might indulge being her target backstop for a time now and then, he couldn't imagine her actually convincing him to battle her seriously. The mere thought of punching her made him feel a little queasy. She was tough... he doubted he would actually hurt her too much, even if she was younger than him. But his heart rebelled at the thought nonetheless. Made him think of all those reports of domestic abuse he saw on the TV... even though their relationship was nothing like that, and it would have been at her request and instigation, he just couldn't shake that association. And grappling with her was right out... that would be all sorts of awkward, getting all hot and sweaty and tangled up on the ground with her. Not only was his misfortune certain to put his hands in the wrong places eventually, but indulging in that kind of wrestle play would definitely send the wrong messages to parts of his body he'd rather not display so openly to Misaka. Certainly it would be difficult to continue to seem oblivious to her in that case.

Touma was wavering on helping her find out about Magic. It was probably inevitable, knowing Biri-Biri, so he might as well be there for damage-control purposes. Maybe bring Index along as well, just to really get the point across, and maybe give them some time to make better friends with each other now that they both knew why the other was always hanging around him. They were both very important to him, if in different ways, after all, and he wanted them to be friends. Index would certainly be able to explain Magic better than he could, maybe even in a way that would make sense to Misaka. He was wavering less on the problems of his personal relationship with her. Perhaps he would use the Magic situation as a test drive. If this worked out, with the sharing and the mutual reliance and such... perhaps then, just maybe perhaps then, he could make an overture to Misaka as a boy does to a girl he likes, despite his misfortune.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and he looked up instinctively, but the sky was blue and clear, not even a hint of clouds in any direction. His second instinct was to look for lightning and sparks coming up from the ground towards the sky, but there was no sign of that either, so Misaka didn't seem to be around. Good, he wasn't ready to face her yet... he had to figure out a way to apologize for what he'd said at the Hospital first. A sudden wind kicked up, and Touma shivered, glad for his school jacket, but wishing he had something a little warmer as well, and maybe a hat as well. It was getting into Autumn after all. The wind kept up, swirling around and around, gusting and flowing, tugging at his clothes, growing in intensity, and Touma belatedly realized it was no natural breeze... shortly before a dark skinned female figure dressed in military olive drab dropped out of the sky and alighted in a gust of dust and blown grass stalks on the dirt track behind him.

"You're a hard man to find, Touma Kamijou." Major Findley, the ACME Level 5, said with a triumphant glint in her eyes. "I've been flying around for hours, trying to find out where you finally ended up. It was awfully rude of you to run off on us this morning you know? Your fellow guide was quite upset, at least at first. Though she mellowed out some when we decided to go to her school instead of yours." Air currents continued to blow around her, ruffling her hair and picking at his clothes, but Touma merely looked at her with resignation. It seemed like his solitude was over. He almost smiled as he realized that being cornered by a Level 5 girl with predatory intentions was actually a situation he was used to enough to consider normal.

"I'll have to find some way to apologize to Shirai. And I'll apologize to you now. I'm sorry for running off like that. Your taunts this morning hit me in a sore spot, and I needed to take some time to work out how I should be feeling about the root cause of the problem" Touma told her, bowing in apology as he rose to his feet.

"She seemed pretty set on skinning you alive and nailing your hide to her office door, so that better be one good apology. But I didn't hunt you down this afternoon while flying all over the city just to get an apology. I could care less whether you're sorry or not. And while I didn't mean to poke you in a sore spot, I must admit I rather enjoyed your reaction. Do you have any idea how long it has been since anyone, man or woman, has stood up to me in a direct conversation like that? Has faced me down when I'm trying to intimidate them, and looked me in the eyes, and simply CRUSHED my Power as you crushed my taunts, like it was nothing? I still get shivers, thinking about it! No one has ever done that to me before! It was... exciting." Adelaide replied, eyes all but glowing as she looked him up and down.

"You don't look like much, I'll admit. But there's more to you than meets the eye, isn't there, Mr. Kamijou? You showed me a little hint this morning, and I came all the way out here to find you so that you could show me more..." Adelaide stepped forward, combat boots crunching on the dirt road. "I have no idea how you negated my power like that, and Wiley continues to maintain that it is completely impossible, despite witnessing it himself. You claim to be a Level 0, the absolute 0 you said... but that was a lie, wasn't it? You do have an ability, don't you? What is it!? Tell me!" She demanded.

"And if I don't wish to? You kind of intruded on me during some private thinking time. I'd prefer just to be left alone." Touma turned half away from her to look at the river again. "Sorry for making you come out all this way, but I'm not interested in what you want. I've got a different Level 5 to worry about."

"You would dismiss me?! As if I were some raw recruit fresh from Boot Camp!?" Adelaide sounded like she wasn't sure whether to be impressed or outraged. "You may have stopped me this morning, but I was not on my guard then! Things are different now, you won't stop my power so easily now!"

"Look, I can tell you're trying to pick a fight with me, but I'm not having it. Maybe another day I'll let you bully me into a little exhibition match, but today I'm fucking tired, and worn out, and wrung dry, and I don't need any crazy Level 5 attention-whoring, ok?! You're special, sure. You're powerful, I get it. You can destroy city blocks, cool. Whatever. I'm not interested right now. Go away. If you want a fight, go find Gunha or something. I'm sure he'd be happy to play with you." Touma crossed his arms over his chest and started walking away. A sudden powerful gust of wind screamed past his shoulder and ear, and he felt the slightest sting on his lower earlobe, and realized that Adelaide must have fired a blast of compressed air at him, just barely missing and nicking the bottom of his earlobe. "Really?" Touma asked tiredly, without even looking back. "You wanna fight so bad you'd shoot at my back?"

"I came here to find out what your power is. You can either tell me, or I'll force you to show it to me. I was leaning on the talk it out of you option initally, but given all this attitude you're giving me, when I really can't see why you think you can give me so much lip and get away with it, is making me lean towards option 2 now." Adelaide retorted, one hand outstretched imperiously at him, a miniature whirlwind dancing in the palm of her hand. "Maybe Railgun lets you talk to her like that, and meekly accepts what you have to say, but I'm not going to let it pass!"

"Hah! If I spoke to Misaka like that, she'd have shocked me into next week already. Or tried to. But she would have failed. For the same reason you're going to fail. For the same reason I was all twisted up about my personal problem to begin with. Because you Espers... especially you Level 5's... are so, so , SO DAMN SURE you know all there is to know about how the world works, that when you find something you can't explain, you can't just leave well enough alone! You gotta keep poking at it, poking and poking and poking, until you finally wake up a sleeping dragon, and then... then, when its too late... then you realize that you should have just minded your own business!" Touma retorted, uncrossing his arms and flexing the fingers of his right hand. "Do I have a Power? Yes I do. Is it a Esper power? No it is not. Can you understand it? No, you can't. I don't even understand it and I was born with it. Am I a Gemstone? No I am not. There, all the questions you could want, answered. Happy?"

"Where does your confidence come from? Are you mad? Delusional? I'm a Level 5! Third strongest in the world! I have been through training so harsh it would break you to even attempt it! I have seen friends die on the battlefield, and killed more enemies than I can even remember. I am the bright star of the United States of America! I am the Zephyr Queen! And you will take me seriously, or you will regret it!" Adelaide's whirlwind expanded from her hand to encompass her entire body, the roaring of the wind growing to a continuous howl as more and more air currents began to whip around under her control, until a literal tornado began to build around her, extending up into the clear blue sky for hundreds of meters.

"I regret a lot of things. Right now I'm regretting saying stupid and ill considered and selfish things to one of my best friends, and trying to figure out how I'll make it up to her. And as for being serious, why do you assume I'm not taking you seriously? Just because I'm not cowering or bending over backwards to do whatever you say. But if you push me, I'll show you that you aren't the strongest Level 5 I've ever had to take down a notch or two when they got too full of themselves! Back. OFF!" Touma took a single step forward and then punched the revolving wall of wind in front of him, Imagine Breaker shattering it just like it shattered all illusions of power. "Final warning." Touma said in the stunned silence that followed. "I'm not in the mood for this today."

"You... you stopped my winds... just by touching them... again... you..." Adelaide was lost for words for a moment. "Well. Well well well! I thought it might have been a lapse of my concentration or something before, but clearly not! You think to scare me off? Think again, boy. I've faced true threats, a petulant high school student who wants to go off and sulk doesn't even register! You've only made me more determined to see what your power is! Prepare yourself... I promise not to kill you, but you may get injured a bit..." Adelaide unbuttoned her uniform jacket and set it aside, revealing that she was wearing a light olive green tank top beneath. Her figure was much more obvious now, strong toned arms and a chest that was quite visible, though still more muscular that curvy. "Wouldn't want to get your blood all over my jacket..." Adelaide answered his questioning stare.

The next instant she flicked her hand, throwing a blade of air pressure at Touma, visible only as a crescent shaped shockwave of compressing mositure ripping through the air. Adelaide could cut through flesh, bone, armor and even vehicles and solid structures, all with simple compressed air pressure, depending on how she exerted herself. Touma got his hand in front of the attack and it shattered under Imagine Breaker's presence with the usual loud noise. "Not bad, but how about this!?" Adelaide cried, hurling a continues stream of air blades, dozens of them approaching Touma from multiple directions, curving and twisting through the air... they didn't have to travel in straight lines after all. Touma flailed wildly at the air around him, like he was battling an invisible swarm of hornets, the sound of breaking glass near continuous as he fended off the barrage.

"You have quick reflexes... you are no stranger to battle, I see." Adelaide noted as Touma continued to fend off her assault, dancing back and forth in place. "Why do you only use your right hand though? Are you taunting me? Am I being too easy on you!?" Adelaide gathered her concentration and then hurled a much wider blast of air, a river of crushing air pressure rather than a pinpoint stream, suitable for throwing heavy objects and smashing obstacles aside. Touma stuck out his hand and the air pressure dissipated as if it never was. "Even that!? How are you doing that! Is even that not enough power to make you try hard?"

"Ah, try hard. I finally get it now. Tryhard Blowhard. From this morning. I'm not the best at English puns. That's funny."

"FUCK YOU!" Adelaide yelled, snapping her fingers as she called upon a different, more complicated manifestation of her power, instantly compressing the air in a large volume of space, causing an Implosion effect, centered just past Touma's shoulder. This caused the air to rapidly heat up from compression, before exploding outwards in all directions in a shockwave. She modulated it so that the shockwave was about as strong as that of a concussion grenade, blasting Touma forward with his ears ringing and his clothes smoldering a little bit. Unless one could perceive the positions of air molecules like Adelaide could instinctively, it was almost impossible to predict this particular attack coming. And she could unleash multiple of them at a time, ranging in size from simply firecrackers to grenades to full on bomb blasts. But though Touma was getting on her nerves, she wasn't so upset as to contemplate trying to kill him.

She wasn't above launching a few more of the smaller concussion shocks at him while he was staggering around though, and Adelaide felt her confidence restored a little bit as she watched the boy be ragdolled back and forth, clearly blinded and disoriented by the blasts occuring all around him. This was more like it. Though expending this much effort on a supposed Level 0, even if he was clearly much more, was still offensive! Launching another concussion bomb, she targeted it for just in front of his stomach, planning on driving the air of him and putting him on his knees, and maybe seeing if that would loosen his tongue a little more. But somehow the boy intercepted this attack, his right hand closing around the compression point before it could fully implode, the odd sound ringing out again before her power dissipated completely. It was like nothing she'd ever experienced. It wasn't like the winds dispersed, not like the air moleculars were displaced or stopped... it was just like her control was removed and the air returned to what it would normally be, completely ignoring all the laws of physics in the process!

Touma charged at Adelaide, realizing that unlike vs Misaka, he couldn't rely on seeing her attacks coming, and if he wanted to avoid being range blasted to death with AoE attacks, he would need to close the distance quickly. He held out his hand in front of him, and heard it activate several times, crashing through invisible walls of wind that the Zephyr Queen had erected at some point beforehand, sufficient to ward off bullets and even heavy weapons fire, but nothing to Imagine Breaker. Before he could get into punching range... and Touma smiled to himself as he realized that he had no hangup about punching this level 5 girl, strangely enough... Adelaide rose into the sky on a cyclone of directed wind, allowing her to hover twenty or so feet above him. He waved his hand through the air a few times, but apparently whatever control she was exerting on the air was centered up where she was, more like generating thrust rather than a pillar of air to stand on.

"As if I would allow you to grapple or engage me in hand to hand. I'm not that nice." Adelaide chided the boy. She had no idea what would happen if his Power touched her, but since it seemed limited to just his natural reach, it was easy enough to avoid finding out. "Surely you see now, you cannot beat me. You cannot reach me, and I can bombard you with attacks you cannot predict coming, at will. I could have taken you down already if I wanted to. If you continue fighting, you'll only get yourself hurt."

"And I'm still standing. So far all you've been able to do is make my ears ring a little, and now I know what to expect from that form of attack... it won't be so easy in the future." Touma warned her. "I may not be able to reach you, but neither will your attacks reach me. Let's just call this a draw and each go our own way, Ms. Tryhard?"

"Taunting me does not help your position, boy!" Adelaide sneered, amazed and somewhat appalled that the boy could still be snarky even now. Though she supposed he wasn't too much of a boy, only a couple years younger than her all told. Still, he was a civilian, and that gulf of experience was a wide one. "You say you can see my attacks coming now? You haven't even scratched the surface of what I can do! Observe!" Adelaide cross her arms across her chest and stared smugly down at Touma. Nothing happened. The wind did not howl. Air did not compress and explode. Nothing at all seemed to be happening... until Touma suddenly swayed dizzily, gasping as his face started to turn purple. Adelaide had complete control over all the molecules in the air around her... that meant she could filter out specific gases from a specific volume of air as she wished... including removing all the oxygen from the air around Touma, while leaving everything else in place. For that matter she could do the opposite as well, compressing oxygen or hydrogen to enhance the explosive power of her compression blasts, creating virtual thermobaric explosives out of thin air!

But Touma refused to go down, struggling against suffocation, he flailed about with his hand, hearing it continually activating, but not dispelling the effect, or not disrupting it at least. It wasn't until he clapped his hand over his mouth that he released he could breathe freely again, at least as long as his hand was in place. He looked up at Adelaide, hand over his mouth, as he recovered his breath and his color, and tried to think of what he could do. He still didn't grasp the full extent of her power, even as she had the same problem for him. His main advantage against Espers though, was taking them off guard when he negated their ability without warning. And that advantage was neutralized while Adelaide hovered out of his reach. The main reason he'd beat Accelerator was that the number 1 had underestimated him and grew overconfident enough to try and fight him face to face on Touma's terms, but apparently the Zephyr Queen would not so easily fall to the same temptation.

"What is your power called?" Adelaide demanded, a sheen of sweat on her brow. Gaseous filtration took a lot of calculation and effort to create and control for long, much moreso than simple compression or pushing air around. She ended the anti-oxygen effect to allow Touma to speak freely.

"I call it Imagine Breaker. It's completely impervious to all supernatural effects. Esper Powers, and other stuff. It even negates God's own Miracles, from what I hear. It brings me little but bad luck, but it's also allowed me to save a lot of people I wouldn't have been able to help otherwise. So I guess overall, I'm glad to have it." Touma replied with a sigh of exasperation.

"Was that so hard?" Adelaide asked, cocking her head as she studied him, slowly lowering herself back down to the ground.

"What, that's all you wanted? I thought you were going to want to experiment with it until I keeled over from exhaustion, or you fully understand how it worked." Touma retorted, warily eyeing her.

"I'm tempted, believe me. But from what I've already analyzed from how you've used it thus far, I have to admit, grudgingly, that I don't understand it at all. Its effects are impossible. Completely violating physics, hell, even causality! Without a lab full of very expensive equipment, which I doubt you would let me put you in without a real fight, there's not much more I can learn. I was here for personal curiosity only. Things will be different if my commanding officers give me a mission to test you out or capture you though." Adelaide stood upon the road again, and summoned up a breeze to whisk away the sweat on her brow. "Hand me my jacket, will you?"

"You're hard to read, you know?" Touma said, bending down to pick up her jacket. "I could have sworn you were pissed at me." He added, as he walked over towards her

"Keeping your enemies guessing as to your psychological state is basic warfare." Adelaide replied with a thin smile. "You have a talent for aggravating people, don't get me wrong. But a big part of being a Level 5 is controlling yourself, because if you can't, your power will kill someone... maybe even yourself... in a heartbeat. You might want to think about that in the future, how much of a Level 5's power is being held back just because they don't want to destroy everything around them. Your metaphor about poking sleeping dragons is an apt one for me, as much as you."

"It wasn't really a metaphor." Touma muttered under his breath, as he held out her jacket towards her. But his shoelace had come loose during the brawl, and he stepped on it just then, legs tangling themselves up as he toppled forward with a squawk of surprise... and fell face first, right into Adelaide's chest and breasts, rocking her back on her heels. It took him a moment or two to regain his balance, and Touma lurched backwards, a horrified look on his face, throwing up his right hand, still holding the collar of her jacket, protectively in front of him. "Please don't kill me, that was an accident!" He pleaded frantically.

"So it appeared." Adelaide replied archly, snatching her jacket from him and slipping it on again. "You get one freebie, I guess, for being a good sport. Get handsy again and they'll find pieces of you in every individual district of this city."

"No, it was an accident! Bad luck! My misfortune!" Touma promised fervently.

"Well, now I'm pissed. You crash headlong into my chest and all you can say is that it's misfortunate? Way to make a girl feel pretty, Mr. Kamijou. You must be drowning in girls, with an attitude like that..." Adelaide growled, whirlwinds appearing in her palms.

"That's not what I meant either! It's getting worse! NOOOOOO! I'M SOOOORRRRRRYYY!"


	13. In Pursuit of Understanding

**Author Note:**

NoName: That is actually a very good point of your own. Feels to me like something I ought to have some characters debate in the story at some point, whether its that you acquire quirks as you gain in Level, or that the quirky people are the ones with the necessary oddball perspective to advance to higher Levels in the first place. I could see a fun argument between a bunch of Level 0's on the matter... Leonid, Touma, Tsuchimikado, maybe Jonathon Sherman, etc. All the more fun if the Level 5's overheard them at some point. Sounds like a good scene premise for a more light hearted chapter later on.

As for the fight with Zephyr Queen, I definitely get what you're saying. Touma, even with the Imagine Breaker, probably wouldn't win nearly so many of his battles in Canon if his opponents weren't so hung up on him being a Level 0/not a mage, so they don't take him seriously at first then get panicked when he starts negating their stuff and make stupid mistakes. Overconfidence in his opponents might be his greatest "plot armor" advantage. Certainly if so many of them didn't face him head on and simply try to overwhelm him with brute power (Mikoto, Accelerator, Stiyl, etc) he would have a much harder time with his fights. At least with Imagine Breaker as it currently is. I have my own ideas for progression for Touma, since he never really actually gets stronger in the Canon series, or so it feels to me, and he'll need them, because I enjoy smart, tough villains, and he won't be able to rely on them simply charging into range of his punching arm very often. Especially Izarde, who has encountered versions of Imagine Breaker in the past... but we'll get to some of that in the chapter after this one.

Though at least Mikoto will be growing in how she applies and uses her Power as well. I have plenty of ideas for her own progression, which are as much refinements of her existing power as actual strength increases. Some of it may even come about in mutual training sessions with Touma... or are those dates? It can be so hard to tell with them. I have plans for Uiharu and Saten and Kuroko as well... and I feel in my own humble opinion that they are paths not often trod in the fandom... certainly I haven't seen any stories with such things as I have planned in them before.

xxxx

 **Academy City, October 2nd, Outside Seventh Mist Mall, Early Evening**

Mikoto Misaka leaned against the wall of the mall, between two of the large street level display windows, one leg tucked up underneath her, almost like she was sitting on her heel with her foot flat against the wall and her other leg braced on the ground. She was wearing the Tokiwadai winter uniform, of course, the tan blazer and plaid skirt warming her only a little. The problem with the Tokiwadai uniform, summer or winter, in her opinion, was the skirt. It was entirely too short. Not quite a mini-skirt, but it was noticably shorter than the skirts of most other schools. She wore shorts under her skirt as a matter of course, despite Kuroko's despairing protestations about it being unfeminine, but to Mikoto, it was better to be tomboyish than to be constantly flashing your panties to everyone when you ran, jumped, tumbled and wall-climbed around the city, as she did. The fact that they were gekota panties marketed for girls who were just starting to reach puberty, and which she found hopelessly adorable, actually didn't weigh much on the decision to wear shorts with her skirt. Much.

And while some girls got around the problem of their legs being largely exposed by wearing pumps or tights or stockings, Mikoto had never been comfortable with them. She would wear them, such as when she wore one of her violin recital dresses for one of the few public performances she allowed herself to be bullied into giving. But she did not prefer them, and did not find them comfortable for her daily life. Her slouch socks at least kept her ankles and calves warm, so it was only the area from just below her knees to the middle upper part of her thigh that was exposed. She just happened to have fairly long legs for her size. In truth she would be much more comfortable in long shorts and a T shirt, or even pants and a light sweater or button up shirt, things which people thought of as "guy clothes", but she rarely got any chance to wear them, as Tokiwadai policy was for their students to always be in uniform. It was a form of advertising after all, a mark of their elite status. Mikoto didn't care about status, but as a member of the school and especially as a Level 5, she was unfortunately forced to be a representative at all times, whether she wanted to be or not.

All the moreso because Shokohou, that manipulative witch, was only too happy to make use of her Mental Out to manipulate the minds of faculty and students alike, as well as city officials even, so as to go unlooked for whenever a Level 5 was needed for something, dumping all the responsibilities onto Mikoto. She really should learn to say no every now and then... she had the power to refuse them of some of their stupid requests. As a Level 5, she had a lot of power actually, besides that which she generated within herself. Of course much of that external power came from connections with powerful Research Groups or administrative functionaries within the city hierarchy, including even the Board of Directors themselves, which Mikoto generally eschewed. But she could get pretty far on just the Level 5 title in most cases, though she only did that when she absolutely had to, as it made her feel a little dirty. But she just wasn't the sort to turn down people in need either. She couldn't remember where she read it from, some American comic or other, but there was a saying she liked. "With great power comes great responsibility". That was the kind of credo she could get behind, and tried to live up to.

But today she was taking time off from being the Railgun of Tokiwadai, to be Mikoto Misaka instead, at least hopefully. Ever since the Terrorist Attack outside the School Garden the week before, she had been feeling on edge and irritable, though that had as much to do with what had happened after the incident as the terrorists and the casualties they had inflicted. The fight itself hadn't been too much trouble, at least for most of it. Men with guns, at least not full scale military weapons, were not something she had fought against often, but she knew how to deal with firearms, especially with Kuroko there to back her up. Anything that was made of metal or conductive materials was something she could use either to protect herself or attack the enemy with after all, and in the modern world that was almost everything someone might bring with them into battle. That Idiot had of course charged into the fray as well, but she knew he could take care of himself, even as it put her heart in her throat to watch him risk his life... regardless of what his crazy hand could do to Esper powers, it wasn't any good against normal force or guns!

Of course the fact that he was basically helpless had never stopped the Idiot in the past, so she was not surprised to see it did not stop him then either. And she knew that she could cut loose with her power safely even with him in the line of fire at least. She just wished she had noticed how many of the terrorists there actually were, so she could have shocked them all down before they were able to attack innocents. But she hadn't, maybe her gaze and attention drawn a little too worriedly to the Idiot, rather than taking in the whole battlefield as she ought to have been doing, and by the time she realized what was happening, students were already bleeding and dying! She'd put an immediate halt to it of course, but that wasn't much comfort for the student's who'd been cut down by heavy machinegun rounds was it? She'd made sure to view the bodies in the aftermath... seeing the mangled remains that were the result of her distraction and inadequacy, and finding a place to vomit her stomach empty afterwards, before the trip to the hospital. Images to haunt her nightmares... but deservedly so, in her opinion. She should have saved them.

Even worse than that was how she'd frozen up when the terrorist she had thought was down and dead, or at least unconscious and bleeding out, suddenly got back up and came after her with those freaky claws and fangs growing out of his body! Well, she hadn't frozen up initially, she'd shocked the freaky thing as hard as she'd ever shocked anyone, enough current to stun a horse, but it acted like it hadn't even tickled! It pounced at her and she avoided it for the most part, but it had managed to just barely scratch her on her cheek. Barely more than a papercut. It didn't even bleed, initially. But somehow that had frozen her up, left her paralyzed, unable to move, even when she channeled her power to try and control her muscles directly, they stubbornly remained frozen, like her body had turned to ice! The Idiot had saved her from being eaten alive... damn him for being so stupidly heroic, and epecially for looking all good and cool while he did it, and always, always, ALWAYS in front of her! When he held her in his arms after the thing collapsed into black flames and ash, Mikoto felt like she had never been warmer and safer, even though it had only been for a moment, and suddenly she could move again, her body restored just by being in the Idiot's presence!

Of course that warm glow had been diminished considerably by viewing the wreckage of the aftermath and proof of her failure as a Level 5. And the flickering remains of it had been guttered out by her convseration with the Idiot in the hospital hallway. _Idiot! Idiot! Moron! Fool! Stupid boy! Why couldn't he understand what I'm feeling!? Why does he have to try and shoulder every burden all on his own?! Why does he always, always, always have to be the hero, suffering and hurting so that nobody else would have to? He doesn't have to go that far! Nobody wants him to go that far, but he does it anyway!_ Mikoto fumed to herself. She was still enraged by his dismissal of her attempt to get involved in whatever those "Magic Bags" were, though it had died down to a bubbling simmer of anger and resentment over the course of several days, down from the raging tempest of fury and hurt she'd felt initially. And which she had taken out on her surroundings as soon she got to a private place at her dorm. Childish, but satisfying.

 _Look, I know you're stronger than me in a lot of ways. Most ways that really matter anyway, despite what you might say to try and not hurt my feelings, you Idiot. You did what I could never do, and saved my life and the lives of nearly ten thousand of my little sisters. You gave me my own strength and determination back, and you didn't even ask for anything in return, except for home made cookies I never actually gave you. I know I owe you. I'm in your debt and I couldn't pay it all back if I lived a dozen lifetimes. You'd tell me not to worry about it, but I can't do that. You deserve my thanks, and you will accept it even if I have to force you!_ Mikoto ranted at him in her head, where she was safe from any annoying rebuttals or distracting retorts he might have in reality. _Compared to you, I'm just a weak and selfish girl who can't admit how she feels to the people that matter the most. But why can't you see!? Why can't you understand that I don't care that I'm weak, that I might not be able to do anything to help... that I just want to be there for you anyway, however I can. Because you deserve someone to share your burden with, even just a little. Why won't you let me in, Touma? I know you want to protect me. And I like that. Nobody has ever protected me, not like you do, not since I left home to come to this City in the first place. But you're going too far, you Idiot! You're not protecting me here, you're stifling me! So I'm sorry. I can't accept your dismissal. I'll find out what you're involved in myself, and do what I can to support you on my own!_

Mikoto flipped open her phone, checking the time, dimly aware that she was sparking from her bangs a little, but it was calming to do so, so she let it continue despite the glances and stares from some passerby. She was early to the rendevous, a habit of hers when she was nervous about things. She was going to meet up with Saten and Uiharu and Kuroko after they all finished with their own things for the day. Some therapeutic shopping and money expenditure on frivilous things was just what she needed to regain her emotional balance, Mikoto felt. And when the time was right, and she worked up enough nerve, she was going to ask her friends for some help. She'd been almost obsessively researching everything she could find about Magic, as well as the recent Terrorist incident, during every moment of her free time since the day of the attack. Mostly she had come up with a lot of ridiculous, obviously unrelated stuff about stage magic, like some guy calling himself the Amazing Amazo off in America somewhere. It was kind of interesting, but it didn't get her any closer to understanding the Magic Bags or Guy Who Should Have Been Dead. Smoke and mirrors and perspective tricks weren't what she'd encountered that day.

There wasn't much on the news feeds about the Terrorists themselves either, other than noting that they'd all been caught and that the incident was being investigated by Anti-Skill, and that everything was under control even as local security awareness had been heightened for a short time. Standard news pap, with all the interesting and frightening details smoothly ironed out and covered up. She'd tried to throw some Level 5 weight around the situation, called some of the Anti-Skill people she knew, like Captain Yomikawa, but they hadn't been able to help her. Not exactly stonewalled her, more like they didn't know either. The secret mechanisms of the City were grinding away behind the scenes, Mikoto could tell. Looking closer would be dangerous, she knew that. But she was determined to do it anyway. If the Idiot was in trouble... no, she KNEW he was in trouble, he always was, somehow... because the Idiot was in trouble, she was going to help him out, whether he wanted it or not. It was high time for HIM to have a turn being protected! And she'd already declared War against the entire City before, she wasn't afraid to go peeking in dark corners and opening doors people would rather stayed shut if she had to.

But she didn't know where to look to find the information she needed. She knew her way around Academy City's info systems pretty well, and was comfortable getting into databases she really shouldn't have access to, but there were layers of security she could not penetrate just with her power. She was hoping Uiharu would be able to assist with that... her friend was one of the finest computer science experts in the city, the famed Goalkeeper of Judgement. Uiharu might also be able to help her design a program for shifting out false positives and dud leads in the data via cross referencing and other methods. Saten on the other hand had a talent for sniffing out strange information. Normally it was all just rumor and hearsay, urban legends and the like. But since she was looking for something as esoteric and unscientific as Magic, she figured that might be right up Saten's alley. And if not, Saten was a very sensible girl... most of the time... and could be relied upon to usually keep the group going in the right direction with her vivacious energy.

As for Kuroko, well, she was Mikoto's best friend. If there was anyone she could rely on to help her out with a problem, it would be her roommate. And with her Judgement credentials and investigative talents, who knew what sort of leads Kuroko might turn up? It was just a matter of convincing Kuroko to use those assets and talents on a private side project for Mikoto, rather than official Judgement business. Uiharu the same way. Saten was probably going to be a given, only too happy to help, it was the other two that Mikoto knew might need some cajoling and convincing. Especially Kuroko, if she found out WHY Mikoto wanted to know about what she was looking for. She was going to do her best not let them find out she was investigating a boy, especially that particular boy, because she knew they would all be impossible about it with teasing or drama. But she was grimly prepared for the possibility that the bribes, arguments, calling in of favors and even outright begging she planned to do first might not be enough, and she would be forced to tell them the truth about what she wanted and why.

She would do her best to limit the danger to her friends of course... that was why she wanted them to help without really knowing what or why they were helping her do. But as she had learned with the whole Febrie situation not too long ago, she didn't have to do everything herself. And her friends didn't even want her to do everything herself, they wanted to help her do the things that were important to her. She just wished the Idiot would understand that she felt the same way about him! Then again, he was the Idiot. Completely oblivious to all sorts of things, including how it felt for her to know he was out there fighting and contending and possibly getting hurt or worse, and she wasn't there to help him! Because he wouldn't let her be! But she wasn't going to stand for that, not anymore! She would show him that she had the strength to stand at his side at least, against Espers, or Magic, or whatever problems he might face, if it was the last thing she did!

"Heeeeyy! Misaka! Over here!" Mikoto looked up to see Saten waving at her from the entrance to the mall, dressed in blue capri pants with an orange and russet open fronted sweater in the pattern of jack-o-lanterns, over a pale cream colored shirt, as well as the usual white flower in her hair. As usual, Saten had a cute outfit on, and Mikoto was briefly jealous of that freedom before setting it aside as she jogged over to her bright eyed friend. "Were you waiting long?" Saten inquired as Mikoto reached her.

"Not too long, don't worry. And I had some thinking to do anyway, so it worked out." Mikoto replied, stuffing her gekota phone back in her pocket. "Uiharu's not with you?" She asked, as usually she and Saten were inseperable after school was out and Judgement duties were done.

"She apparently got held up late with some Judgement stuff. Sounds like they're working pretty hard since the Terror attack last week, and with Shirai out of the office on other duties, they're stretched pretty thin from what I can tell. I tell her not to overwork herself, but you know what Uiharu is like. Judgement's not just a job to her, its a passion. But she called me not long ago and said she was on her way now, so she should be here in ten or fifteen minutes." Saten replied with a lighthearted shrug. "Doing some heavy thinking huh? About what? Or should I say... who?" Saten acquired a smugly knowing look on her face that Mikoto liked not at all.

 _Damn it all. She's in that kind of mood, is she? That's going to make things... unpleasant... later._ "I-it's not like that..." Mikoto protested, knowing she sounded weak. Because well, it kinda was like that, just not really, and it was all confusing and it made her heart ache thinking about it! "L-look... I'll tell you about it a bit later, ok? I actually have something I want to ask you guys's help with, but first I want to relax and do some shopping and just be, well, us, for a bit, ok? Its been a tough couple days and I could use a break."

"Sounds good to me! I haven't seen much of any of you for one reason or another lately, I'm all for a girls night out!" Saten replied enthusiastically. "Where is Shirai anyway? Usually she's all but hanging off you when school is over."

"I don't know actually. Her City Guide shift should have been over by now." Mikoto wondered, before clenching her fist and emitting a few sparks. "Damn, I missed her at school today too... apparently she brought the ACME Level 5 for a tour... but I was elsewhere at the time. I wouldn't have minded squaring off with that Zephyr Queen a time or two, put her through her paces! After that high and mighty entrance she pulled at the arrival ceremony, I've been looking forward to taking her down a notch or two!" Of course no sooner had they spoken of the devil than did she appear, teleporting out of nowhere as was her habit and all but flinging herself at Mikoto from the side and back.

"ONEE-SAAAMMMAAAA!" Kuroko exclaimed in a half overjoyed, half piteous tone as she embraced Mikoto, wrapping her arms around her sides and almost knocking her forward off balance as Kuroko rubbed her face against Mikoto's shoulder and back. "MY DAY WAS SO HORRIBLE!"

"Get off!" Mikoto snapped, pushing at the clingy girl, but refraining herself from relying on shocks. She was going to ask Kuroko for a big favor later after all, the least she could do was be a little gentle right now. "Watch your hands, you perv!" Mikoto was especially wary of Kuroko's hands sneaking inside her clothes ever since they'd cleaned the pool together that one time as punishment and Kuroko had teleported off her underwear trying to get her into a swimsuit.

"But I had such a terrible time today, and your bodily presence calms and revitalizes me!" Kuroko protested, squeezing her arms tight and doing her best to mimic a limpet.

"Revitalize from arms length, if you must!" Mikoto pulled at Kuroko's arms to little avail. Despite being a year older than the other girl, in terms of physical strength they were pretty well matched, Kuroko might even be stronger because of her Judgement training. Anger and embarrassment usually served to give her the strength she needed to pry Kuroko off her and smash her into the floor or walls a few times to get her annoyance across, but she was holding back from doing that today. "You're causing a scene!"

"I know no embarrassment when it comes to displaying my true love for my Onee-Sama!" Kuroko declared resolutely, though she did seem a little calmer, slowly releasing her bear hug around Mikoto's sides. "Usually you shock me numb by now... are you feeling all right Onee-Sama?" Kuroko asked, looking up at Mikoto's face from way too close. "You don't have a fever do you!? Your Kuroko will tend to you of course, and mop the sweat from your brow, and even squeegee it from the rest of your beautiful lush bod... OW!" Kuroko cut off as Mikoto thumped her on the head, pushed beyond her tolerance limit by a vocal daydream that likely would have become almost pornographic in short order otherwise.

"I'm not sick. Though I wonder about you sometimes. You act like you're delirious from fever often enough." Mikoto huffed, finally managing to step away from Kuroko's embrace while her roommate rubbed her thumped head.

"That's the cold and difficult One-Sama I know and love so much. It wouldn't be worth it if you didn't make it such a challenge!" Kuroko replied with a happy smile. "Greetings, Saten." She turned to the other girl and nodded in pleasure. "It feels like its been forever since we got to hang out together. Where's Uiharu?"

"She'll be along." Saten shrugged. "She said she was just finishing up her patrol route a short while ago and was on her way. She sounded a little frazzled for some reason."

"Well the 177th Branch is pretty short handed." Kuroko allowed thoughtfully. "I hope she remembered to put in a request for help from another Branch if she was going to go out on patrol. With the heightened state of alert, we are supposed to go in groups of two or three, and Konori-senpai is usually busy with administrative matters at higher levels."

"Maybe I should volunteer and go with her next time?" Saten wondered with a hint of concern. "I still have that Auxiliary Judgement Officer armband. Just gotta think of a good reason to get out of school..."

"Please do not act like a potential delinquent in front of me, Saten. I can not bear it, not after what happened to me today." Kuroko pleaded, all but tearing at her hair in frustration and pent up rage.

"What happened to you today?" Mikoto asked curiously, as it was uncommon to see her friend so openly distressed, well at least about her work anyway. She was also interested because she knew that a certain Idiot was Kuroko's City Guide partner, and she was instantly on alert for anything she might learn about him or the situation he was in.

"I was assailed with rudeness and inconsideration from all quarters, pretty much from the start." Kuroko replied bitterly. "I don't know what the Tro... I mean, that certain Gentleman... may have done to draw the attention of ACME, but surely it could not have been so important as to cause them to ignore me when I was trying to greet them like I was just part of the background!" She corrected herself because she knew her Onee-Sama would be unhappy with her by calling the Trog what he really was. She didn't have the proof she needed yet to show her Onee-Sama what sort of trash Kuroko was saving her from, so that meant she had to toe the line of propriety, though it burned in her gut like acid to do it. "I offered to take them on a tour of Tokiwadai, but they turned me down cold... apparently all they care about is HIS school, for reasons that quite escape me!"

"But wait... I heard you took them to Tokiwadai today? But you're saying they didn't want to go? Aren't you supposed to take them around where they want, not where you want?" Mikoto was confused. And also worried. She couldn't think of too many reasons for ACME to be interested in the Idiot... unless they had seen something regarding his Hand anyway. And that could get messy if so. As far as she knew, he was the only absolute anti-Esper in existence. Academy City's rivals would do a lot to gain access to that kind of ability. _I knew it! He's getting in trouble already! I can't leave him alone for a moment or he gets dragged into something!_ Mikoto groused inside her head.

"They acted like I wasn't even there! They didn't say one word to me, almost. All three of them were completely focused on the Tr... Gentleman. They seemed very interested in what his Esper abilities are, even though by his own admission he is the most hopeless Level 0 in the whole city! They simply wouldn't leave the topic alone. The Gentleman in question did a lot of blathering and trying to sound cool, but I could tell he was uncomfortable with their line of questioning. He obviously has no respect at all for Level 5's, no matter who they might be, given how he gave the Zephyr Queen woman such a hard time." Kuroko slipped that subtle barb in, hoping her Onee-Sama would take it to heart. The boy had no respect at all for those who were his superior in power. Why would you want to be with someone who didn't respect you? "He got very preachy really, it was quite unpleasant, and very rude."

"Sounds like him." Mikoto could not help but agree. About the preachiness anyway, not it being unpleasant or what Kuroko saw as a lack of respect for Level 5's. Touma respected everyone, as long as they gave him and others that same courtesy. She could not imagine him being intentionally disrespectful to anyone, unless they absolutely deserved it, like Accelerator during their fight. Kuroko was probably mistaking his natural "treat everyone the same" attitude as disrespect. Though as a Level 5, Mikot had to wonder if the Zephyr Queen actually found it disrespectful. She found it refreshing personally, after all. And as for preachiness, in her experience, Touma preaching at you was meant as a wake up call when you were heading down a bad path. _In fact, I get the feeling Kuroko is self editing quite a lot in her recap. Well, its her story to tell I guess, I should just take some of the details with a grain of salt until I get confirmation from a different source._

 _Maybe Onee-Sama is NOT completely blind to the Trog's faults!_ _Hope yet remains!_ Kuroko thrilled to have her true love agree with her, even in such a noncommittal tone. "Well, anyway, eventually his cool facade slipped, and the Gentleman proved he was no such thing, as he confronted the Zephyr Queen directly and made some sort of rude or shocking gesture at her. I was standing a little ways away at the time... she'd started gusting wind, kind of like my beautiful Onee-Sama does with her sparks when she's about to teach someone a lesson... but the "gentleman" in question clearly can't understand a warning sign when one blows in his face." Kuroko shook her head in exasperation. "He swiped his hand at her and said something about breaking her illusions like they were nothing, which made her stare at him in disbelief, her wind stopping with her amazement at his temerity!"

 _As if my sparking ever stopped you from trying to do perverted things to me!_ Mikoto thought sourly. _And if he used the hand I think he did to "swipe" at her, then I'm sure it wasn't her amazement that brought the wind display to a halt. I wonder what she said to him though? Usually he never provokes first, except by accident._ Mikoto curled her fingers into a quiet fist. _If she's been bothering him, I may have to set her straight on a few things next time I see her..._

"You make it sound like he was trying to pick a fight with her or something." Saten said, sounding surprised. "But he's just a Level 0 right? I mean, I guess I'd stand up to Misaka if I thought she was doing something wrong, cause I know you wouldn't hurt me, Misaka, but I wouldn't try to pick a fight with her. And especially not with any other Level 5. Is he crazy?"

"I have no idea what goes through his mind. I would prefer not even to attempt to imagine it. It would make me stupider, just attempting it." Kuroko said with massive disdain. "As for picking a fight, maybe. But he apparently chickened out if that was his intention... right after he swiped at her, he ran off, and I was too stunned by what had just occured to follow him. By the time I realized he wasn't coming back, he was long gone... he left me alone with them! He completely abandoned his duties as a City Guide, and left all four of us alone in part of the City we weren't familiar with!" Kuroko seethed as she recalled it. "It was all I could do to stop them from running off after him willy-nilly! The Zephyr Queen in particular was insistent on pursuing him for some reason... I think she was in the mood to teach him a lesson about respect, personally! But I managed to make them see sense eventually. We can't have ACME Espers running around the city unescorted, especially in the wake of the Terror Attack."

 _I'm pretty sure she wanted to chase him for the same reasons I did after I first encountered him. That power of his is like nothing else I've ever encountered. Is it related to this Magic stuff maybe? It's certainly not like any Esper power I can imagine. It doesn't follow the laws of physics._ Mikoto thought to herself. She could not contain a small smile though. Provoking a powerful Esper, saying a lot of preachy stuff, then running off before they could properly respond... that was definitely Touma all right. Her heart ached as she thought about him. She was still so mad at him, but she felt so fond of him at the same time! It wasn't fair for him to be able to make her feel all warm and fuzzy at the same time as she wanted to wring his scrawny neck! _Stupid, aggravating, annoying, incredible, amazing, heroic Idiot..._

"So then you brought them to Tokiwadai after that?" Saten concluded.

"What else could I do? We had no idea where the truant gentleman's school was after all. The ACME Espers weren't happy about it, but they went along eventually. We had to find a replacement City Guide after all, so it was killing two birds with one stone. So we got to Tokiwadai and they paired me up with Kongou. KONGOU! For the rest of the day! Ugghhh!" Kuroko looked like she wanted to slam her head into the wall repeatedly. "And Onee-Sama wasn't even around either! They said you were off doing some independent research! I don't even want to talk about the rest of the day... it didn't get any better! There's even supposed to be a new foreign transfer student coming into my class soon and I've apparently been selected to introduce her to the school... as if I don't already have enough to do!"

"There, there, Shirai. It's because they know you're so reliable." Saten comforted her friend. "And it's a chance to meet a new friend, ya know? Maybe you can introduce her to us? I mean, I know most people go to Tokiwadai for the advanced Esper program and regular study courses, and most of them don't come out of the School Garden much, but if she's a foreigner maybe she'll want to see the rest of the City as well?"

"We'll see. I wouldn't hold out too much hope though. Apparently she's from a VERY wealthy background. Tokiwadai doesn't allow just anyone to enter in the middle of the school term after all, even if they meet the entrance requirements. The extra tuition and hassle charge fees must have been astronomical, but apparently her family paid them like it was no big deal at all." Kuroko sighed tiredly.

Mikoto was about to offer her own comfort when a familiar voice cried out to them from behind them. "Hey you guys! I'm so sorry I'm late!" Uiharu came scampering out of the crowded sidewalk, still wearing her school uniform. Apparently she'd been too busy with Judgement work to even have time to change clothes before meeting up with them, and she was a little red in the face and out of breath, like she'd been jogging or even running to meet them. There was something odd about her nose too, but Mikoto couldn't see what it was as Uiharu was bent over with her hands on her knees as she caught her breath.

"It's all right, we still have plenty of time." Mikoto said casually. She was about to ask the rest of them where they wanted to go first, when she caught a good look at Uiharu's face and nose, and simply stopped and stared. Kuroko and Saten did the same. "Uhm... what happened to your nose?" Mikoto asked, raising an eyebrow in query, as she saw that both of Uiharu's nostrils were stuffed with tissue paper and there were thin crusts of dried blood around the edges.

"Oh this?" Uiharu said, seeming a little nervous for some reason. "It's no big deal. It's a long story really..."

xxxx

 **Several hours later, Seventh Mist Ice Cream Shop**

"I still can't believe you spent the whole day with a guy!" Saten exclaimed, for about the twentieth time since they had pried, piece by slow piece, the story of Uiharu's bloody nose out of their friend. "Wahh! When did my best friend start growing up so quickly without me noticing!" Saten lamented dramatically, as they sat around the table in the ice cream parlor together, shopping bags clustered at their feet. They were enjoying ice cream cones and milkshakes, while resting their feet after browsing through stores for the last few hours.

"I keep telling you, Saten, it's not like that!" Uiharu protested huffily, her cheeks flushed as she stuffed her mouth with spoonful after spoonful of ice cream. "It was in my capacity as a Judgement officer, a sort of walking probation thing. He was truant from school, but he did help me out in the alleyway, so I figured I'd cut him a little bit of slack, once."

"Mmmm-hmmmm..." Saten said in her most skeptical tone. "So you dragged him around with you all day as his punishment, did you? That sounds more like something Misaka would do..."

"Shut up." Mikoto flushed as well, sipping from her caramel milkshake. She was feeling much better, the shopping and the idle time with her friends had really helped out, just like she'd hoped it would. And it was kind of refreshing actually, being on the other side of the teasing about a guy, for once. Mostly. She could see the attractions of the practice now that she wasn't the victim of it. "I wouldn't do that."

"The way you talk in your sleep says otherwise, Onee-Sama..." Kuroko muttered darkly, picking at her own ice cream halfheartedly. Of the four of them, she seemed the most pre-occupied and tense still, despite the joys of shopping. Clearly there was things bothering her, though she was doing her best to put on a facade for the group so as not to drag everyone down. This only led credence to Mikoto's private theory that what Kuroko had shared about her day was just the tip of the iceberg. But trying to pry it out of her wouldn't be polite or even possible... once Kuroko had her mind set on keeping quiet, she was as stubborn as a mule.

"What was that?" Mikoto asked sharply, a little crackle appearing around her bangs.

"Oh, nothing." Kuroko corrected herself. She turned to give Uiharu a gimlet eyed gaze. "You KNOW you're not supposed to patrol alone! Especially during a time of heightened security awareness! You should have contacted another Branch for back up! You could have been seriously hurt! What were you thinking, trying to take on three Espers at once by yourself like that?"

"I was thinking I'm a Judgement Officer and its my job." Uiharu retorted, with a small hint of heat in her voice. "I know I'm not the strongest out there by a long way, but I'm not going to turn my eyes away from a crime in progress, even a petty crime like truancy. I'll admit I should have called for backup, that error is entirely mine, and my report on the incident to Konori will reflect that. I expect a note of censure for my failure to follow proper department policy. Maybe I'll even have to write an apology letter. Oh hey... you can help me with that, right Shirai? You write them all the time, after all." Uiharu's normally mousy demeanor seemed a tad fierce all of a sudden.

"Cheap shot." Kuroko grumbled, but backed off all the same.

"Aw come on, Uiharu, don't get all snippy." Saten said teasingly. "Shirai was just worried about you. You're our friend after all. Though I guess once your "mysterious stranger" was around to escort you, you were no longer in any danger, right?"

"The way you say that makes it sound like you think I was clinging to him or something, rather than making sure he didn't run off and become a delinquent." Uiharu sniffed primly and ate more ice cream.

"Well you did take him down to the riverbank all by yourself with no one else around, didn't you?" Mikoto could not help but join in a little. "And you still haven't explained where the nose bleed came from..."

"You too Misaka!?" Uiharu sounded stunned that she was getting teased from that angle as well. "It was completely platonic, I assure you! Just part of the patrol route."

"The more you insist, the less I believe you." Saten said with a smirk. "I know you. I can tell you're leaving details out of things all over the place, Uiharu. You wouldn't be getting so evasive if there was nothing for me to find out. You're almost as bad a liar as Misaka..."

"Hey!"

"I'm not being evasive! We went down to the riverbank and talked about Esper powers, and I tried on his cool sunglasses, and looked at him, and then my nose was bleeding." Uiharu snapped at them, before suddenly turning bright pink as they all started at her incredulously. "That did not come out right..."

"Wow." Saten said in a deadpan voice. "I don't even know what to say to that. I mean, I always knew you had the dirty mind amongst the four of us. But I never expected you to go that far. You looked at your mysterious stranger and immediately got a nose bleed? And you wanna tell me you spent the day with him purely platonically? Seriously? Misaka's supposed to be the one in denial among us..."

"I said HEY!" Mikoto glared, though she failed to entirely deny it.

"NOOOO!" Kuroko pounded her head on the table in despair. "Even Uiharu is being corrupted by the curse of men... woe is me!"

"It's not like that at all!" Uiharu insisted, appalled at their insinuations. "Joule-san is handsome, but my nose bleed was not because of that! I would never think things like that about a guy I just met!"

"So you think about "things like that" about guys you've known for a while then, eh?" Saten pounced, now that Uiharu was starting to flail about and lose control of her narrative. "Joule-san is it? Sounds foreign. Lots of that going around the City lately it seems. And you admit he is handsome. Do I need to start giving you the talk about the birds and the bees already, Uiharu?"

Uiharu turned a shade of red that Mikoto had never seen before, except on her own face when looking in the mirror when she'd spent too long thinking about a certain Idiot. "NOT LIKE THAT! IT IS NOT LIKE THAT, SATEEEEEEN!" Uiharu screeched almost ultrasonically.

"When you react like that, what are we supposed to think?" Mikoto pointed out dryly. "We just want you to be safe is all. Don't rush into things. Maybe I should have a talk with this guy, make sure he knows to treat you right..."

"That will not be necessary." Uiharu replied with a snort of displeasure at the teasing. "Besides, you're the last person who should be poking fun at me, Misaka! Are you ever going to do anything about that boy you like? The one you danced with around the bonfire? The one you made cookies for! What's up with him huh? Wasn't he caught up in the Terror Attack along with you and Shirai?"

"Shirai was just complaining about him this morning." Saten cut in. "Apparently the ACME Espers are all really interested in him, and he picked a fight with the Level 5 Zephyr Queen! But then he ran away before the fight started."

"He didn't pick a fight!" Mikoto refuted, feeling annoyed that they would think of the Idiot as some sort of crazy coward, when he was anything but.

"Onee-Sama, you were not there. I watched him do it myself. He was totally picking a fight. Nobody talks to a Level 5 like that if they aren't trying to start something." Kuroko argued. "And the fact that he ran away after doing it is irrefutable. He even made physically threatening actions towards her!"

"Oooh, is Misaka's boyfriend a bad boy type after all? That's outside the scope of my initial predictions..." Saten was only too happy to start teasing her other friend as well.

"And I'm telling you, whatever you saw, you saw it wrong! He doesn't pick fights! And he's not my boyfriend, Saten!" Mikoto snapped, feeling sparks start to surge up inside her and forcing them back down at the last moment. "I've tried to provoke him into a fight more times than I can count, and he never would! And in some of those situations, any normal person would have fought back, but he never did! I know you don't like him, Kuroko, but I don't appreciate you attempting to misrepresent him like that! He's an idiot, and he annoys the crap out of me constantly. But he doesn't start fights. He just finishes them."

"Wow, again." Saten said, in a small voice. "First Uiharu gets a nosebleed while looking at a guy, now Misaka is getting all prickly about how we talk about the boy she likes? Today has been quite surprising indeed..."

"I can only say what I saw, Onee-Sama. There was no intent towards misrepresentation, just the facts as I saw them." Kuroko sounded a bit hurt at Mikoto's implied sense that she was twisting the facts.

"You seem a bit on edge, Misaka. Is everything ok?" Uiharu asked, concern evident in her voice, cutting through the teasing which had apparently stepped on some sore spots without intending to.

 _It's earlier than I hoped for, but I guess this is as good a time as any._ Mikoto thought with a heavy internal sigh. "Actually, there has been some stuff bothering me lately." She admitted softly.

"Oh? You can talk to us about it." Uiharu encouraged her with a gentle smile. "We're your friends after all."

"I know. And I intend to. I just have to warn you, it's kinda strange. And it may end up being dangerous, and I'm not sure I can protect you if you get involved." Mikoto warned them. She watched them exchange glances and nods, and felt a proud warmth in her chest, when they all simply waited for her to go on. She really did have the best friends in the world. "After the Terror Attack, I was talking with Touma... err, Kamijou. The boy from the bonfire dance. As you noted Uiharu, he was with us during the Terror attack since he's Kuroko's City Guide Partner. He actually helped out quite a bit during the attack, and he may have even saved my life when I was in a bad spot."

"Surely you exaggerate Onee-Sama. A few men with guns and explosives is hardly a threat to you. I know you like him, Onee-Sama, though I can't imagine why, but you don't need to misrepresent him either."

"Facts, Kuroko. As I saw them." Mikoto replied with a scowl, which made her roommate sink back into her chair with a dark look on her face, but Mikoto shook it off and kept going. "There was some weirdness going on there, but I'll get to it in a bit. Anyway, we were talking, just sort of trying to get a handle on what happened during the attack, and he made a couple verbal slips. See, we don't know how the Terrorists managed to get all those weapons into the city, or through the passive scanners at the tram station, right? He made a reference to things he called... and I'm quoting him here... "Magic Bags". I asked him what he was talking about, and he clammed right up, and refused to talk about it any further, no matter how hard I pressed him. He told me that he knew stuff, but couldn't tell me, because it was too dangerous for me to get involved in."

"The NERVE of that boy!" Kuroko sounded outraged. "I was appalled that he would talk to the Zephyr Queen like he did, but he does that to you too, Onee-Sama!? I will teach him proper manners the next time I see him!"

"Is Magic Bag some sort of code word or something?" Uiharu frowned. "I haven't heard much other than the preliminary reports, but whatever technology they used for the bags certainly isn't something that is commonly available."

"He really cares about you doesn't he? I mean, to try and keep you out of something because he's worried about how dangerous it is. It's kinda sweet." Saten said, a tad wistfully.

"He cares about a lot of people. I don't think I'm anyone special to him, but that's not important." Mikoto tried not to sound depressed at the fact that her crush... and she could admit to herself now anyway that he was such, given how much a little fight with him had upset her... had not the slightest idea that she was anything other than just another friend. "As for his nerve, don't worry about it. I can't go into why, but I have good reason to believe he can take care of himself, even against people I would be scared of. Take that as a fact, coming from me. But anyway, though I appreciate his gesture, I can't very well in good conscience let him shoulder all the burden of danger alone either. But no matter how I asked, he refused to tell me any more. In the end, we had a bit of a fight about it, and I stormed off." Mikoto blushed as she recalled it.

"THAT'S what you were throwing a tantrum about!?" Kuroko sounded absolutely aghast. "You did all that to our room just because this stupid, foolish BOY wouldn't tell you what sort of crazy misadventures he gets himself involved in!? Onee-Sama! I hate to say this... but... could you please GROW UP!?"

"It was not a tantrum! It was stress relief!" Mikoto insisted. "And I didn't cause any permanent damage. To anything expensive." She muttered.

"Ok, ok. So you had your first fight with your boyfriend cause he wouldn't tell you what sorts of dangerous things he gets up to, because he wants to protect you. It sure SOUNDS like you're special to him, you know?" Saten paraphrased with a wide grin.

"I wish. But he's like that to everyone." Misaka sighed despairingly. "And for the hundredth time, Saten! He's NOT my boyfriend. He was very insistent on protecting me as if he were though, and I did and do, not appreciate that very much. He's NOT my keeper, and he doesn't get to decide what situations I do or do not get involved in! And it's too late anyway! I was in that Terror Attack. I'm already involved. But he's too much of a pig-headed hero to see that! So I'm going to prove it to him by figuring out whatever it is he's trying to hide, without his help! Maybe then he'll accept that I'm worth sharing some of his burden with, and not just someone he has to protect! But I'm at a dead end in my search, so I want to ask you guys for help. Just for research purposes... that's as far into this as I can drag you, in good conscience."

"Well Misaka, it sounds to me like you're not that much different from him." Saten pointed out in more serious tones, causing Mikoto to furrow her brow in confusion. "If you want our help, then we're either in or out, Misaka. Not partially in, to a certain point. You're a Level 5 and we all know it. But you're not our keeper either. You're our friend. He may not be your boyfriend, but you clearly care about him an awful lot. I've never heard you talk about someone like this, about sharing their burden, proving yourself as someone they don't have to protect... Misaka, this sounds really serious to me, whatever it is. If it's that important to you, we'll be there with you all the way, so don't worry about us. We're here to share your burden, you know? We're not just people you have to protect either."

"You're right..." Mikoto admitted with self exasperation. "I guess I was planning on trying to manage your guys's involvement at some point, but that's what I'm so pissed at him about isn't it? Being a hypocrite isn't the right way to go about this. I just wish he had someone to tell him that too!"

"Maybe he does." Saten shrugged, and then got a glint in her eye. "So if we're getting just as deeply involved in this as you are, how about we start with some more honesty? You say he isn't your boyfriend, over and over again, but the way you talk about him... Misaka, are you in love with him?"

"I..." Misaka started to deny it but eventually closed her mouth. "Maybe... yes..." She forced out through gritted teeth, flushed as red as an apple, expecting a plethora of comments and teasing. Admitting it took almost all she had, but Saten had a point. She might be asking them to risk their lives. They had a right to know why this was so important to her. Once more though, her friends surprised her.

"Well, that's good enough for me." Saten said, sitting back in her chair casually.

"Oh Misaka! I'm so happy for you! You finally admitted it!" Uiharu gushed. "Of course we'll support you... all the more because its a matter of love!"

"I suppose if you're THAT determined, I have no choice but to come along and supervise you, Onee-Sama." Kuroko seemed subdued and there was an expression on her face for a moment that Mikoto could not interpret, but threw in her support anyway. Mikoto felt her heart melt just a little in her chest. She really did have the best friends ever!

"Thanks you guys. And for not teasing me." She wiped away a tear from the corner of one eye.

"You get a freebie for now. I can't promise not to tease you about your... secret crush... eventually, but for now let's focus on the problem at hand, whatever that is." Saten answered with a grin. "I haven't heard any urban legends regarding this Magic Bag stuff, but I'll keep my ear to the ground."

"That's what I was hoping you would do." Mikoto admitted. "But its not just Magic Bags I'm interested in. It's Magic as a whole. Not stage magic. Real Magic. If such a thing even exists."

"This is getting a little weird, Onee-Sama. Magic? Really?" Kuroko seemed epically skeptical. "I know you like childish things, but come on. You can't tell me you believe in Magic still!"

"Magic huh..." Uiharu on the other hand seemed quite thoughtful, her eyes distant as she pondered something.

"I said it would be strange. And I'm serious. I know how it sounds. And I don't believe in Magic. But I can't explain how those bags worked with Science or Esper powers either. It was like the guns weren't there at all, and then they were. Like matter and energy appeared out of nowhere. I thought maybe Teleportation, perhaps, but Teleportation is a point to point mechanic... you can't put it on a bag and reach into it and only put part of yourself to another place. I don't understand everything about your power Kuroko, but I know THAT at least is impossible. You'd cut your arm off trying something like that. But these guys, who weren't even Espers, did it repeatedly." Misaka frowned and shook her head in consternation. "But that wasn't the REALLY freaky thing. Kuroko, you remember how that ACME guy, the Sergeant dude, shot that one terrorist that Touma was fighting? I didn't get the best view, but in your opinion as a Judgement Officer, were those fatal wounds?"

"I did not see it entirely clearly either. But Sergeant Sherman appeared to fire at least two or three shots with live ammunition and struck the terrorist in the neck and upper chest." Kuroko thought about it, straining to recall details. She'd left to do crowd control shortly after that, and had not paid much attention at the time. But that sounded right. "I can't say for sure if it was guaranteed fatal, Onee-Sama, but it would be highly likely. Certainly the hostile would be down until they received trauma care at a modern hospital."

"That's what I thought, thank you. It seemed like the guy was dead... he bled all the over the place. But then he got back up... and he was... different." Mikoto said, her face dead serious, trying to imprint the words on her friends. "He grew filthy looking claws out of his fingertips, and had huge jagged fangs in his mouth. And he was faster and stronger and tougher than he had been before. But less... sentient, I guess. More like an animal. I shocked him good and hard, but he barely seemed to feel it. And it felt wrong. I usually get a little bio-feedback current when I shock someone, that's what tells me how long they're going to be down, on average. But this guy, there was no feedback at all. And that's impossible. In living tissue anyway."

"What, are you saying he came back to life?" Kuroko sounded even more skeptical than before.

"No, I'm saying he stood up even though he was dead. Like, actually dead, empty of blood, his heart and throat in a pulpy mess." Mikoto winced as she went into gruesome detail. "I shocked him again and again, until he was smoking, and he kept coming like he didn't even feel it. The ACME guy shot him several more times too, and that didn't slow him down either. It was like something out of a zombie flick! And then whatever it was attacked me, and grazed my cheek with one claw. Just barely broke the skin. But I fell over and couldn't move. Even with my direct muscle control via electricity, I could not move, at all. And that's also impossible. My muscles and nerves were working just fine, but I could not move regardless. This... dead thing... touched me and I was paralyzed. And then Touma leapt in front of me and punched it in the head a few times and it exploded into black fire that was cold, and burned to ashs in short order."

"Your prince rescued you!" Uiharu exclaimed, stars all but in her eyes. "How romantic!"

"Romance was not on my mind, or his." Mikoto replied sternly. Not strictly true, she was leaving out the hug at the end that restored her mobility, but she'd embarrassed herself enough today already. "But I've turned that experience over in my head a thousand times, and I can't think of any way to explain it with Science or Esper powers. And then Touma slips up about Magic bags, and won't tell me any more, except that it's too dangerous? There's definitely something going on. If Magic IS real, then why does he think its so dangerous? Wouldn't it be a good thing? Well, I guess turning dead people into monsters isn't a good thing..."

"So what do you want us to do, Misaka?" Saten asked.

"I was hoping you would keep your ears and nose out for any strange rumors or legends in the city that might deal with Magic or other esoteric stuff. Stuff that people don't think can be explained with Esper powers. You've been right with some of that stuff surprisingly often in the past after all." Mikoto replied with a smile. "As for Uiharu, I was hoping she could help me gain access to some of the surveillance camera footage from the event, and see what the secret City reports on the incident are saying. My contacts in Anti-Skill say its all being kept very hush-hush, investigated by contractors and stuff, rather than them. That says to me the City has something to hide and I wanna find out what. I realize this is a breach of your duties as a Judgement Officer, but I'm asking you as a personal favor."

"I'll do it. I'm... curious about Magic as well." Uiharu said with an odd look on her face. "Especially if its out of Anti-Skill's hands. That's not proper procedure for something like this. If someone in the City command structure is being shady about this, then exposing them is part of my duty!"

"And me, Onee-Sama?" Kuroko asked expectantly.

"I need your investigative instincts and stalking abilities." Mikoto said with a hard grin. "I'm asking you to follow Touma around for the next few days as much as possible... without him noticing you. See where he goes. Who he talks to. What he gets up to. Especially if its anything weird that doesn't feel like Esper related stuff. He seemed to reference "the other side" a couple times when he was warning me off. That feels to me like Magic might have organization in it of some sort. Like the Dark Side of this City of ours. If he's involved in that sort of stuff, maybe there are Magic people he'll interact with. I need you to spy on him for me."

"Onee-Sama..." Kuroko broke into the widest grin she'd had all day. "You have no idea how much I will LOVE performing this task for you!"

"I'm glad you're enthusiastic." Mikoto gave Kuroko a stern look. "But I'm also expecting you to watch OUT for him as well as watch him. If you see him get into trouble, into danger, I want you to call me immediately, no matter what time it is or where you are. And then do whatever you can to support him until I arrive." Mikoto pointed her finger at Kuroko emphatically. "And you'd BETTER NOT mess with him. I know you don't like him, don't even try to pretend otherwise. If you try to take advantage of this situation to screw with him in the slightest way, I will punish you in ways you will NOT enjoy."

"That is altogether less enjoyable." Kuroko muttered before sighing in defeat. "But if that is your order, Onee-Sama, your loyal Kuroko will carry it out to the best of her abilities. I will prove to you that I am superior to this lousy boy you are so unfortunately infatuated with!"

"Thank you." Mikoto said with a sigh. _Good luck with that other thing, Kuroko. You're my best friend, and I hope you know that. But you can't replace him in my heart. I just don't feel like that for you. Ah man, is there any way I can get that through to her? Without crushing her? Well, maybe I won't have to. She'll understand eventually, I'm sure. She just wants what's best for me after all. Eventually she'll see that Touma is not a threat, and that there's all sorts of reasons to like him._

"You are most welcome, Onee-Sama." Kuroko answered with true pleasure, as personal thanks from her Onee-Sama were a rare gift. _You are teetering on the brink of disaster, Onee-Sama, but I will save you, never fear! With your own sanction now, I will investigate the Trog's life from top to bottom, and completely reveal to you how unsuitable and unworthy he is of your affections! All the moreso if he is tempting you to get involved in shady dealings and hocus-pocus! He'll be the ruin of your reputation at this rate! I love you so much Onee-Sama... I won't let this passing phase of romantic fancy steer us away from our destiny together! I will protect you, Onee-Sama, especially from the threats you refuse to believe are there!_


	14. In Pursuit of Dark Goals

**Author Note:**

NoName: I couldn't resist a cameo. After all, its stories like Major x4's, Darkbetrayer's, Mr. Question Mark's and so on that inspired me to first write in this fandom. Of course our stories are completely unrelated, and take place in vastly different versions of the same setting. But it's still fun to toss a nod to great writers in the fandom when I have a subtle moment to do so. Perhaps one day I will be mentioned in the same breath as them, as one of the titans of the Magical Index/Scientific Railgun Fanfic Fandom.

I'm glad you enjoyed Mikoto and friend's interactions. I want them all involved in the story one way or another after all, because they are important parts of the Railgun experience, and a big part of why Misaka is such a balanced and good person despite being a Level 5 (she bucks the general trend there). Of course I also plan for them all to grow in their own unique ways. What would Uiharu do if she actually had the potential to be a powerful Esper, for instance? And why was Academy City unwilling to put forth the effort to develop her power? And what will she do or how will she feel if she ever learns that the City isn't as much of a meritocracy as she believes it to be? That could be an epic length story all of its own, but it will simply have to be another plot thread in this one. And that's just one example of course.

xxxx

 **Academy City, District 22, October 3rd, the new Three Kings Commercial Tower, afternoon**

"And so the evil Overlord sat upon his grim throne at the heart of his lair, ornate staff held imperiously in one hand, contemplating the imponderable. Plots and plans and schemes whirling through the unfathomable depths of his mind like stars traveling through a galaxy. A red glow slowly awoke, like the kindling embers a fire, in the depths of his eye sockets. The gathered minions, awaiting the pronouncements of the Overlord on bended knee, waited with baited breath. Their lord and master was returning from his ruminations... what dread strategems or astounding insights would he share with them next? Whatever might be coming, there was one certain thing... this new world of theirs they found themselves in without explanation, would never be the same..." Izarde read from the paper clutched in one hand, the paper crinkling in his grip, artificially deepening his voice to try and get the proper narrative tone. At length he crumpled the paper up and tossed it idly across the room into a flickering brazier of coals, causing a small burst of flame.

"No. No no no. Too much. Too overwrought. Too baroque. Too overdramatic. That is not how an Overlord, evil or otherwise, comes up with his plans. One must always remember that an Overlord, no matter how great, was always once just a normal person at one point in their existence. Their ideas come to them as they do to anyone else... randomly, sometimes in bursts of inspiration, sometimes only after days or weeks or years of intense contemplation." Izarde sighed and turned back to look at his prized typewriter, laying his fingers upon the keys with faint metallic clicks. His fingers stayed motionless for a time, as he wracked his brain for a better way to put it. A better, more natural way to start. In media res? That was an oldie but goodie, but it often turned off newer readers who succumbed to early confusion and never gave the story the chance to develop. Writing a novel was a difficult thing. Perhaps all the moreso when you were attempting the sub-category of Fan Fiction, when you would be held against the harsh standards of an already canonized universe by rabid fans who each felt their interpretation of the universe was obviously the correct one.

At length, Izarde pushed the typewriter away, having found no good way to start his fan fiction. Nothing that felt authentic enough to him at least. Perhaps one who was not actually an Evil Overlord might not be so choosy, but he liked to write what he knew, and it wouldn't feel right to load the story down with stereotypes and misrepresentations of what it was like to be an Overlord of an evil organization bent on world domination or destruction. True fiction, in his opinion, fan oriented or not, should enlighten as much as entertain, should make the reader think about their own morals and experiences in light of what the characters of the story went through and did. All while existing within the safe realm of dreams and fantasy, where even the most reprehensible sort of character could generate a passionate and rabid following, even if in real life such a person would be reviled by most of the world. In was an interesting little statement about the nature of human beliefs and biases... if being evil in fiction was ok, why was it condemned so much in reality? And if one committed evil acts in reality, but then shared them with others as fiction and gained approval and acclaim from a wide base, did that then make those evil acts good in retrospect? Definitely something to ponder.

Izarde rose from his chair, made of plain wood and leather, simply carved with symbols of running horses and dyed in paints that had faded almost to the point of indecipherability. Like many things within his own personal lair, it was an antique, collected during his far ranging travels and long life. Though at the time of acquisition, as with most of his collection, it had decidedly not been antique at all. That had been an interesting night, dicing with the horse lords of that vast mounted army, listening to their boasts and celebrations as the terrified citizens of the walled town outside which the horde was encamped waited trembling for the dawn, and their inevitable massacre for failing to surrender unconditonally as demanded. It interested him, how humans could be so nuanced and sophisticated amongst their own culture and traditions, and so barbaric and crude at the same time to outside observation. He witnessed acts of kindness and generousity and good humor from men who would in mere hours time be impaling babies on spears and ravaging women and burning buildings with entire families still trapped inside while laughing in bloodthirsty glee.

It was for reasons such as this that unlike most of his chosen calling, he preferred to remain engaged with the world of simple mortals, rather than sequestering himself away in the study of magics and arcane secrets of the world. He did so only in disguise of course, and only in ways where his presence amongst them would never be discovered, either at the time or under the lens of historical examination in the future. Interfering only in ways that could never be attributed to him, seeding the whisper of ideas in the minds of great leaders and then simply letting the natural course of human greed and ambition and fear plot the path to doom and destruction all on their own. Mostly just watching though... one of the earliest lessons he'd learned that was humans, no matter how gifted or powerful, rarely needed much help from any outside factor to put themselves on the road to self destruction and catastrophe. It was a very important lesson, and he tried always to bear it in mind... his own greatest enemy would always be himself, and the natural human tendencies and unconscious biases he still carried within him.

Izarde sought to understand the culture and stereotypes and... what was that new word again... memes! Yes, he sought to understand the emergent memes of human society with each passing generation, with an especial focus on those used by whatever culture or society he found himself hiding and working amongst. Understanding the subtle underpinnings of cultural thought and expectations would allow him to position himself outside the areas covered by such expectations, making it that much more difficult for any potential enemies to easily predict his actions. Even Magicians after all, hidebound traditionalists living in the past though they were, could not help but be born and raised within the cultures of the world itself, and soak in that subconscious knowledge and biases in the process. That was one reason Izarde was attempting the writing of fan fiction, for instance. In Academy City, the vast majority of the population were students, many of them in the middle school to college level, and reading or writing fan fiction was a popular past time for many of them. Understanding what their expectations of fictional and postulational enemies were, would help him avoid conforming to them and setting himself up for failure.

As just one example, when choosing the location for the base of the Hollow Ones within Academy City, Izarde had been presented with a wide variety of potential sites and options. Abandoned factory complexes in District 19 for instance. With a local population of truants, delinquents and petty criminals, it would certainly be easy to take over and secure, and would be well away from most passive or casual surveillance from local authorities. It would also be the first place any meddling heroes would look for him, as contempary fiction hammered that trope pretty hard. So instead he'd purchased an experimental new hybrid skyscraper/subterranean arcology being developed in District 22, the area of the City devoted to land management technology for the cities of the future. It was a very public place, near the large Underground Mall that was one of Academy City's famous tourist attractions, and near to many schools and other Academy City institutions. The acquisition of the building was made a public announcement rather than a covert takeover.

And while he did have his minions digging out a labyrinth beneath the sub basements of the arcology, and filling it with traps and monsters and the like, secret doors and gaudy looking ritual objects, that was all smoke and mirrors. Interfering heroes would immediately assume that his lair was deep beneath the Arcology, down in the darkness and gloom, surrounded by cold earth and stone, dark places for dark minds. Because that was how evil supervillains were so often portrayed in modern times. The discovery of a trapped and occupied secret labyrinth beneath the Arcology would be all the confirmation that invaders would need to focus their efforts in that area, where Izarde's security and countermeasures were pre-focused to turn it into an expensive and deadly grind, which in the end would result in nothing but casualties for the enemy. The entrance to his actual lair was located on the 45th floor, 10 floors down from the pentehouse suites on the top of the building, tucked into a unisex bathroom that had a perpetual "down for maintenance" sign in the back corner of the building.

He had long ago decided the best way to remaining safe was to hide in plain sight after all, and had worked to master spatial manipulation magics that allowed him to create pocket dimensions that connected to the rest of the world only in specific places, sometimes even only at specific times. Anything within a pocket dimension was undetectable to observation from the rest of the world... even magical scrying would generally only reveal the presence of outer container of the pocket dimension, such as a bag or a doorway or the like. A simple application of such magics had created the Bags of Holding that the Black Hands had used to carry their weapons. A more advanced application resulted in the door frame-like artifact that Izarde had affixed to the inside of the unisex bathroom's single privacy stall, which was of expanded size for handicapped access. To a normal observer it would look like little more than thin slats of wood or metal taped or glued to the wall, just random graffiti or leftovers from construction. Only the use of a specific magic key allowed passage through the dimensional interface.

Inside the portal, the space was the size of a large castle, complete with multiple rooms and interior defenses of its own. A Mage's tower was their final sanctum and home after all, sometimes, as in Izarde's case, one of the only places where they could safely be their true selves. He owned dozens of properties around the world, most of them actual castles or gloomy towers in out of the way places, but all of them were decoys. Even when he traveled to that part of the world, he would simply set up his dimensional door in the most unexpected of places, such as the local church storage shed or even inside a portable latrine or the like, and rest assured that only the worst possible luck would see his enemies find his lair. Even his own closest minions and followers were not allowed to know where his lair actually was... he would meet with them at pre-arranged locations and times, making use of prepared set pieces like the pentehouse office or the underground labyrinth, to conform to their expectations and keep them guessing.

Of course it wasn't all conveniences. Getting a good wireless signal, or even a landline connection, was all but impossible inside his pocket fortress. And Izarde had embraced the internet and information age, unlike most Mages. Communication magic worked fine of course, but he preferred to drink in the data from the normal world, and conduct his business hidden in plain sight, and increasingly, all such data and business was found online. He found it stupid to just ignore that reality, like most Light side Mages seemed to do, in favor of trying to return to some sort of rosy goggled "glory days" where their chosen religious denomination controlled the world. Now that was serious fantasy. Izarde had lived longer than most current major world religions, especially the Abrahamic ones that "dominated" the world, had even existed. Certainly longer than Christianity and Islam, though Judiasm was a bit harder to lock down exactly how long it had been a thing. He had lived through the periods they considered their "glory days", and while their influence had been pervasive then, in many ways it was no more so than it currently was, it was just more obvious back then. And anyone who preferred visible power to actual greater power, was just a vain fool. Vanity and foolishness were the flavors of the century though, for the Light Side, in his opinion.

Of course, calling what he did "living" wasn't exactly correct. There were many magics that could extend a Mage's natural lifespan or hinder the effects of aging upon them, but even the most powerful mages using such methods couldn't live more than a couple centuries. No, if a Mage really wished to stave off the cold embrace of eternity, the only real choice was to embrace death, rather than flee from it. To die, and force your spirit to remain within a prepared vessel, and thus become Undead. It was important, even critical, to remember that being Undead, while it rendered him immune to dying from old age as wall as many bodily frailities such as hunger, thirst, sleep, sickness, etc, did not make him immortal, or anything close to it. He could still be destroyed. Things like the Imagine Breaker for instance, which while painful and disruptive to an ordinary Mage, would be quite fatal to Izarde should he ever come into actual contact with it. Dispelling the magic that kept his spirit confined to his chosen vessel would kill him instantly. In this way, he was even more vulnerable to such an effect than a "natural" Undead monster like a Vampire was. He had considered Vampirization when first plotting his life extension, but the weaknesses and obsessive hungers that consumed and warped them all eventually held no attraction for him.

There was another path open to a Mage who wanted to live forever, but though it had tempted him greatly, Izarde had simply felt too attached to the world of mortals to want to abandon it entirely. That path was that of the Magic God. By completely mastering an entire system of Magic to the point where they were the foremost practitioner of it anywhere in the world, a Mage could undertake a special ritual, unique to each individual, which would allow them to pass beyond death and surpass the limits of mortality, ascending into the plane of the divine. Successful completion of this trial ritual would give the new Magic God nearly unfathomable power, basically unlimited reserves of magic energy, and a loosening of the restrictions on magic use imposed on mortals. Failing it would usually destroy them completely, removing all memory of them entirely from the fabric of the universe.

But with ascension to the so called divine plane of existence, came a whole host of new rules and restrictions as well. Paradoxes, they were sometimes called. Gaining near absolute power or absolute knowledge, conversely came with the limitation on when and where and how you could employ that knowledge or power freely. Attempting to use your power or knowledge otherwise would result in equal chances of failure as success, as the laws of reality rebelled against your meddling. There were potential workarounds for such limitations, but they were all highly risky. Reality did not like to be played with, not even by the likes of a Magic God. Controlling time, space, matter and energy, a Magic God could theoretically recreate the entire world to suit themselves at a whim. Had he that level of power, Izarde could not imagine himself NOT doing so, anyway, and figured it would be the same for most people... Magic Gods weren't true Gods after all, but ascended mortals, with still mortal motivations. But the plain and obvious fact of Reality belied such things... the world spun on, exactly as it was before a Magic God ascended.

That told Izarde that there were powers above even that of a Magic God, as far above them as they were above a normal mortal, which could constrain them absolutely and prevent their natural abuses of power from affecting the Reality experienced by the rest of the universe. The power to create his own world and timeline was useless if that world and timeline did not replace the actual world, but merely overlapped it, accessible only to himself and maybe a few others, diverging down its own causal path while the Real World moved on as before. What Izarde desired was the power of total freedom, to do with the world as he wished, without any rules or restrictions at all. And furthermore, for any changes or alterations he made to the world, to become the accepted Reality of all, the prime timeline, the True World. But Magic Gods couldn't do that. Or else they already would have. That meant that merely entering the realm of the Divine was not enough. One had to surpass it entirely. To become not a God, but the Creator itself!

Alas, that was impossible with the use of Magic. Magic Gods were by definition, the absolute pinnacle of Magic, the ultimate expression of what Magic could allow you to do. And it was not enough. There was a gulf there, that no amount of cheating the rules of Reality through Magic could cross. Izarde had realized this and so devoted himself to remaining within the True World and Prime Timeline, rather than going off into fantasy worlds of his own as the Magic Gods invariably did, touching upon the True World only distantly and erratically. Perhaps if he lived long enough he would discover some method or secret by which gaining the power of the Creator would be possible, even though he knew Magic could never do it. But Magic could ensure he lived long enough to discover it some other way. Alas he had been beaten to the punch in that department by Aleister Crowley, with his creation of Academy City and the production of Espers using scientific rules and theorems. Though technically supernatural, Esper powers still worked within the rules of Reality, and thus only affected the True World and Prime Timeline. If they were taken to their ultimate expression however, could that path, trod "legitimately" without the use of "cheating" through magic, perhaps end at the power of the Creator?

It seemed likely. Certainly that was Aleister's gamble, Izarde reckoned. And so far it seemed to be born out, with the so called Imaginary Number district and the artificial Angel created within it... creating an Angel being something even the Magic Gods could never do... not within the True World anyway. Of course, there was another side to this whole thing. That there was an ultimate Creator of the universe and all the laws that governed Reality was self evident... what form that Creator took was much more debatable. Many religions claimed that this Creator was the God that they venerated. That was probably true, as far as it went. Where they went false was in proclaiming that ONLY their interpretation of the Creator, which so happened to coincidentally be the one that proclaimed moral laws that put them in a position of power and authority over the world of course, was true. The Creator was not a being, in Izarde's estimation, not a person or even an intelligence. It was a universal force, a constant of Reality. Calling it a God was just the only limited way that mortals could comprehend such a thing.

But if there was a Creator, what then was it defined against, what gave it the attribute of Creation alone? There must be a Destroyer of some sort, to balance out the Creator. Two opposing forces, in perpetual and universally prevelant conflict. The Creator force seemed to be in the ascendancy, as creation seemed to be the fundamental assumption of the universe... if destruction were the Prime, then surely the universe would not exist in the way it did, constantly expanding and growing. That meant that at some point, probably back during the beginning of the universe, Creation had defeated Destruction in some manner, and gained its current advantage. But obviously by its very nature, Creation could not destroy Destruction, so instead it created a prison for its defeated opposition, confining and constraining it within the fabric of Creation itself, limiting its power to a mostly passive state.

That prison, in Izarde's estimation, was the phenomenon known as the Imagine Breaker, which had the absolute power of destroying anything that deviated from the True World even slightly, such as Magic or Esper powers. Quite why it continued to exist on this planet out of all the planets in the universe it could exist on, he could not fathom, but exist here it did. Its form had changed many times throughout history... Izarde had encountered it in several diverse forms, including a sword, a natural rock formation, and as a young slave girl with soulful eyes that had nearly been the end of him before he ever really got started! And, of course, most recently in the form of the boy Touma Kamijou. The mechanics by which the Imagine Breaker transmigrated from host to host were unknown to Izarde, though he knew for sure it would transmigrate when the current host was killed or destroyed. The power of true Destruction would never be allowed to be contained or controlled by anything but the Creator's designated prison.

But the prison was never perfect either. Destruction was not something that could be simply bound once and forgotten about. It constantly struggled to be free, and depending on the host, acted upon them to put them in situations where they might be forced to either loosen the restrictions on Destruction within them, or else face perishing or being destroyed. The owner of the Imagine Breaker was always cursed with the greatest of misfortune, thusly. The exact degree varied by the host, even by how much they understood their condition and could exert their willpower to limit the influence of their prisoner. And whenever the Imagine Breaker transmigrated, it seemed to reset itself to its base state once more, the prison rebuilding itself completely and refreshing all its defenses and bindings.

But the Imagine Breaker itself was just the tip of the iceberg, just the merest outward manifestation of the true power of Destruction bound within that host. Imagine Breaker was just the fumes of irritated breath escaping from the maw of the bound Dragon. Izarde had personally experienced what could happen when the Dragon was allowed to raise its head and bare its Fangs in defense of it's host. Was Touma Kaimjou at that stage yet? He did not know. And if he had accessed the Fangs, then what about the Claws? Or the Wings? Or the Tail? Or even the Scales? With each part of the Dragon that was given its freedom to save the host, the power of Destruction grew ever closer to shattering its prison for once and all. The path by which it was freed was never the same... only the host could free part of the Dragon and only by their own willing collusion with the Dragon. How each host progressed was different. Some acquired the Fangs and Claws quickly, others never freed any part of the Dragon. Some embraced the power and used it to serve themselves. Others resisted it fiercely, and called upon it only in extremis or when given no choice.

Over time, Izarde had found his interest in the Destroyer and its prison the Imagine Breaker, to exceed that of his interest in gaining the power of the Creator. Becoming a new Creator was so, so difficult, no one had ever managed to even get close to it in the more than 2500 years he had existed. It seemed far easier to simply help the Destroyer free itself, and see what became of the True World then. There had been much trial and error... that was how Izarde learned that just breaking or killing the Imagine Breaker was actually counterproductive towards his goal. And usually led to many centuries of more idle time, as the Imagine Breaker could appear anywhere and in anything on the planet, and by its nature could not be found through magical scrying. One could only encounter it by accident in most cases. Eventually, Izarde had decided the best solution was to simply create chaos in the world, to incite conflict, which the current Imagine Breaker would eventually be drawn into in some way, drawn to the destruction of imperfections in the True World.

This had led Izarde through many disciplines, such as Necromancy, Daemonology, Spatial Magic, Chronal Magic, Biological Magic, and many Elemental magics, in addition to the great powers he had been born with. It had led to the creation of the Hollow Ones to serve as his tools and assistants. It had led to the death of Saints at his hands, the banishment from the world of the Mortal Angel so revered by the Abrahamic religions, due in part to his influence in the Roman Authorities of the area, the massacre of hundreds of millions of people across history, the raising of armies of the dead, the calling of demons and fallen angels to create pacts of dark power, the creation of plagues and biological weapons, and atrocities without number! He'd even had a hand in helping get the nuclear weapon situation up and running, though mostly because he was interested in other byproducts down the line. Izarde was not the source of evil within the world. But he was a dedicated enabler of it, and definitely the one that had stirred many a boiling pot of a situation over into outright warfare and atrocity, letting natural human excesses run their course.

So too did he hope to stir the simmering pot that was Academy City. The presence of Imagine Breaker in the City Experiment that Aleister was using to try and attain the power of the Creator, for whatever reason, could not be an accident. It must be a key part of Aleister's plans somehow. How much Aleister knew about the Imagine Breaker was unknown, but Izarde figured it might not be any less than his own knowledge, and it was safest to bet it was greater. That was what made their game so fun of course. Aleister had his plans, and now Izarde was going to try to mess them up, chiefly by freeing the Dragon of Destruction before Aleister realized all the conditions he needed to attain the power of the Creator. Neither of them had any idea as to the timeline of the plans of the other. Neither had any idea what elements of their plans might play into the expectations and prepared contingencies of the other. It would be such beautiful chaos. And that was Izarde's advantage. He thrived on Chaos, worshiped it even. While Aleister was an agent of Order, slowly building towards his grand goal, while Izarde was free to kick about and set fire to things and see what happened. Perhaps it would be enough to offset Aleister's home ground advantage.

What was certain was that he would need to put stress upon the Imagine Breaker host, Touma Kamijou. To put him into situation after situation that would push him to his limits in order to cause him to make deals with the Dragon to surpass them... but without ever killing him. Fortunately, Imagine Breaker had taken the form a teenage male this time, and one apparently with a strong moral streak. That made him well suited for being a prison for the Dragon... corrupting him would not be easy. On the other hand, it gave Izarde multiple vectors of attack to use against him, targeting those the boy valued and loved, putting them in danger to torment and enrage the boy to the point when his rationality would be set aside in the heat of the moment. And once a part of the Dragon's bindings were loosened, they could not be tightened. Not until Imagine Breaker transmigrated again anyway.

Izarde stalked across the room, his favorite robes fluttering about him. They were old in the extreme, little more than threadbare fibers, thick with dust and mildew and even a few cobwebs, which he felt gave them character. They barely covered his body more than the frayed funeral wrappings of an ancient corpse might, but modesty wasn't his concern, especially here in his sanctum. If a man couldn't lounge around his house in his underwear when he wanted to, then it wasn't much a house! Hanging in a gibbet cage from the ceiling, with bars made from material distilled from the bone marrow and spinal fluid of Necromancers, was the flickering form of a man, seemingly made from a glowing bluish light, dimly visible features twisted in agony and terror. The bare soul of a mortal had always been a beautiful thing to Izarde's eyes, even before he learned to do more than see them after killing someone. They were a powerful resource to a Necromancer who knew how to bind them, torment them, break them to his will. This particular soul once belonged to a man named Sanzo Otake, a doctor of bio-psychology, and Russian sleeper agent within Academy City.

Dr. Otake had been killed the day before during Duchess Corbowitz's attempt to kidnap him, his heart and lungs reduced to a charred particulate dust by a blast of nucleonic energies fired by one of Acadmy City's Espers, part of an underworld assassination and clean up group that the City employed to deal with problems like sleeper agents. For most organizations, that would make him a lost cause, but Izarde had no such weakness. Indeed, interrogating a bare soul was usually easier than a living person... they were more vulnerable despite being dead, because then they knew there was no possible escape to be had from their torment other than giving up the information desired. And Dr. Otake had possessed a great deal of very interesting information indeed, concerning many of the strongest Espers within Academy City, the so called Level 5's. That information would be very helpful to Izarde's future plans involving the city and its residents, and his plans for the Imagine Breaker, who was friends with or involved with several of the Level 5s.

Izarde stalked past the Soul Gibbet and instead stopped at the side of a casket of plain iron, a box about the size of a coffin intended for a child or a suitcase. It was plain and unadorned, padlocked shut in several places, and he began unlocking it. Within the casket was revealed to be a stew of blood and gore, bone fragments, shredded pieces of skin, and faintly pulsing organs. A faint gurgling emanated from the casket, which almost could have been a scream of the most mind shattering despair and pain, had the being within the casket possessed enough of its lungs to draw breath properly. "Good morning Calix, are you doing well?" Izarde inquired with mocking politeness, drawing forth another faint sound of utmost distress from his unique prisoner. "Still alive I see. Truly, your Auto-Regeneration power is a thing of wonder, my Gemstone. How many times and ways have I killed you now? Burning, freezing, drowning, chopping to mincemeat, crushing flat, poison, disease, vacuum, impalement, shooting, exploding, having you eaten alive, complete live dissection... nothing seems to keep you down for long, my boy. It is quite encouraging. Bide a while longer, my Calix Nefastus. Your time will come soon enough." Izarde replaced the cover of the prison casket, once more leaving the man within locked in light-less, airless hell.

Though he always planned to succeed in his ventures, Izarde was also wise enough to prepare for failure and to ensure that even if his main plans failed, he still profited from everything he was involved in. Calix Nefastus was one such contingency plan which would tie into the main plan. The thing which drew most Mages to Academy City, other than the abomination of the Imaginary Number Angel, was that the Index Librorum Prohibitorum, keeper of 103,000 Grimoires, was a resident of Academy City as well. Izarde did not know where she was, merely that she was indeed within the City, and that he had seen her in the company of the Imagine Breaker at the airport. Though he had read and even created several score Grimoires himself during the course of his existence, that was still just a drop in the bucket compared to the unparalleled store of arcane knowledge that the Index represented. How she had been created was one of the greatest mysteries Izarde had ever encountered. His undead form, and natural talents, allowed him to use grimoires easier than most mortals, but he would still be destroyed by attempting to know that many of them at once!

Many Mages thus coveted the Index, wishing to either pick her brains for magical lore, or steal her away so that nobody else could do so. Personally Izarde found that to be shortsighted and lacking in ambition. Not to mention very problematic as other factions would invariably step up to stop you from monopolizing the Index. Far better in his opinion to copy the Index without anyone knowing about it. Memory influencing spells could accomplish that easily enough... it was just a matter of finding the proper receptacle for the knowledge. Humans, even Mages, were not suitable, prone to dying or going crazy under the influence of just one Grimoire. Undead beings and some monsters could handle more, but unless he used thousands of them still could not contain the knowledge efficiently. And using thousands would require a ritual that would be obvious to the entire world and take weeks to accomplish, and was sure to be interrupted before completion. Copying the Grimoires down into an inert physical form, like a book, could work, but would again take a lot of time and effort... Grimoires were not something you could just write on printer paper, they needed unique and special materials to contain in physical form safely.

Acquiring the Gemstone he called the Calix Nefastus was his solution. Possessed of the power of Auto-Regeneration at a very high level, Calix was immune to death, at least from trauma. Aging would be a different story potentially, but difficult to test obviously, especially more than once if he wasn't immortal in that sense as well, which would be wasteful in the extreme. No matter how finely chopped or flatly crushed or burned or scattered, Calix would always regenerate eventually. Furthermore his mind was incredibly resistant to the trauma as well, retaining his sanity despite being killed hundreds of thousands of times in hundreds of thousands of different ways during his captivity by Izarde. Of course this was only physical and emotional trauma after all, but Izarde felt hopeful that Calix would bear up just as well under the spiritual trauma caused by Grimoires. Even 103,000 of them at once. And since the Grimoire knowledge was just that... knowledge and not the actual magic Grimoire... there should be little or no power confliction between the Gemstone and Magic.

If all went well, once the Index was located, she could be captured and the memory transfer ritual performed, in as little as a few hours. The girl might never even know what had happened to her, if things went well, returned back to whatever guardians she had before they even truly began to worry about her. No crime would appear to have been committed, and Izarde would have his own Index to consult. It would be quite the coup to pull off. He had other projects going as well, dispatching his minions to take care of things according to their own inclinations. Sven, his Blood Knight, was occupied with establishing the Hollow One's power base in the city, by demolishing the power bases of several other underworld and criminal groups. Crushing such groups would send a message to their fellows that a new power was rising in the underworld, and that they had best watch out or they could be next. It would invite conflict, and conflict brought chaos, and chaos brought opportunity! Sven was a blunt instrument, but knew it, and Izarde knew his Knight would cause mayhem and massacre in just the right way to incite the proper response.

Duchess Corbowitz on the other hand, was his poisoned dagger rather than his jagged maul. Armed with the information on the Level 5's from Otake, as well as observations Izarde had gleaned from the Black Hand terror attack, Claudia was on a mission of infiltration and covert sabotage, utilizing her talents for manipulation, subtle blackmail, extortion, lies and even seduction to attack the Imagine Breaker from an unexpected quarter... from within the ranks of his own friends! That was a slow burning plan however, as such manipulations could not be rushed or they would be brittle and easily discovered/resolved. To truly turn one friend against another, to the point where they would contemplate and carry out covert betrayal of or even overt attacks upon the target, was a delicate art. Done right, regardless of outcome, the Hollow Ones would profit. Either the target would be harmed or greatly distressed, or they would gain a new ally as the betrayer failed and had to flee from righteous retribution!

Izarde himself had a secondary project to attend to that day. He was planning to meet up with Sven at the Academy City Cemetery that evening, which was only a single district away from his current location. Izarde had great experience raising and reanimating the dead into minions... zombies, skeletons, ghouls, ghasts, wights, wraiths, spectres, shadows, and even monstrosities like bone golems or ghost dragons, were his to command with proper preparation and reserves of suitable corpses and other materials. But he had no experience in raising Espers from the dead, and was curious to see what would result. Would they retain their powers even though their soul had departed? Where did their powers reside? In the brain and body, or in the soul? Would they grow stronger or weaker once undead, if they retained their powers without the frailities of the living condition? There was a lot of potential here, depending on how his experiments turned out.

It would also serve the dual purpose of putting him in an "exposed" public position. He wondered what rats might scurry out of the darkness to try and take care of him while he was "vulnerable". Would Aleister commission a direct strike at him so soon in the game? Or would one of the underworld groups Sven was stirring up try to take revenge upon him? Or perhaps it would come from the Magic Side. His agents within the ranks of the major religions reported that there was considerable upset amongst the leadership echolons of the major Cabals, as the news of the Hollow Ones spread. An unknown Magic Cabal, messing around in the heart of Science? That was definitely something they could not let stand, especially if it wasn't under their control! The Catholics and Russian Orthodoxies were gearing up for their own war on Academy City, they would not appreciate someone else kicking things off before they were ready. And the English Angelicans seemed devoted to maintaining the status quo as much as possible, even working with Academy City sometimes to do so. They might send a peacekeeper to try and quell the disturbance before it grew too large.

Izarde checked his chronometer, which was one of the first clocks ever built by human hands, and found that his ruminations had used up more time than he had thought. He still needed to tend to some Three Kings business as part of his public persona before heading off to the graveyard that evening. He sighed, and made his way towards the exit of his sanctum, where his outside clothing hung on a special rack. Free time was over, the life of an Overlord was always a busy one. He began the laborious process of dressing himself so that his true self was subsumed within the sanitized version he showed to the wider world. It was a serious pain in what remained of his ass, but necessary to move amongst the world without causing a ruckus he did not intend. It had not always been this way. Up until a few decade ago even, simple illusion spells and bulky garments had been sufficient to conceal his true form on public excursions. But then back in 1986, one of his long term plans for improving and securing himself, including against the Imagine Breaker, came to glorious fruition. The results of that self improvement mandated his current extremely rigorous disguise protocols however.

Half an hour later, once his disguise was donned, sanitized, secured, checked and double checked, Izarde took up his cane from its bin by the door and settled his top hat onto his head covering, and adopted the posture and body language of his public persona once more. He touched the portal leading out of his pocket fortress, and stepped back into the rest of the world. It was completely light-less in the cordoned off bathroom, but that was no impediment to him, as he had not possessed eyeballs for millennia. He could see fine even in most magical forms of darkness. Unlocking the bathroom door from within, he stepped out into the hall, re-locked it, and headed off into the corridors of the building he now owned, moving at a stately amble, cane tapping the floor every stride or two. Just another day in the life of an evil Overlord...

xxxx

 **School Garden, Tokiwadai Middle School, same time**

Kuroko sighed heavily, slumped at her desk, as the bell rang to announce the end of formal classes for the day. Many students would have self study or extra classes depending on their fields of study or contracts with various research institutes throughout the city, but the core curriculum of Tokiwadai was done for the day. Those students without extra classes would generally have clubs or clique functions to attend. Tokiwadai strongly encouraged its students to remain active in various pursuits up until the 8 pm curfew time every night. Lazy girls made poor Espers, and idle hands were the devil's instruments for getting into mischief and trouble, all the moreso when they belonged to elite and privileged and pampered teenage girls, most of whom were in the full grip of puberty and all its hormonal delights. Isolating the school within the School Garden helped deal with most of that particular brand of trouble, as males were not normally allowed within the Garden, even for temporary social visits. Pursuits of that nature required a student to leave the Garden and mix with the proles in the rest of the city, and that was sufficiently bothersome that most girls did not pursue such relationships, focusing on their friends and schoolwork instead.

 _Alas, Onee-Sama is no longer one of those good girls..._ Kuroko lamented brokenly inside her mind, laying her head on her desk. She felt like sobbing, but held back because she was in public. It had only been a day since the four of them had met up at Seventh Mist and had a shopping day, culminating in Onee-Sama actually deigning to ask them for their help directly... a rare and treasured occurrence! Even if it was with matters regarding a certain Trog that Kuroko wished would simply walk out in front of traffic sometime! He complained about bad luck all the time, why hadn't someone had the good grace to run him over already? _Well, maybe that's a bit much._ Kuroko chided herself. She loathed Touma Kamijou for a variety of reasons, mostly because Onee-Sama was infatuated with him, but wishing death or serious harm upon her rival in love was beneath her, and counter to her principles as a well bred young lady and Judgement Officer.

 _Gaaahhhh! She even admitted it! She's in love with HIM! Onee-Sama! How could you step on my heart like that right in front of me?_ Kuroko moped, her chest aching from deep within. She had done her best not to react at the time of course. Onee-Sama was asking for her help then after all, she couldn't sully that situation by making it about her own sadness and hurt. It was one of the few times in her life that Kuroko actually regretted being Onee-Sama's roommate. She'd been unable to get away from Onee-Sama all night long, without seeming totally suspicious at least. So instead of having her own little tantrum of raving and screaming and punching things, and teleporting effigies of the Trog as high into the air as possible and letting them smash on the cold hard ground like she wanted to do, she'd had to bottle it all up inside and put on a supportive face and demeanor for Onee-Sama. Of course, Onee-Sama deserved her support, and Kuroko was happy to do it. She loved Onee-Sama and would always be there for her... even when Onee-Sama hurt her without realizing it. That was what true Love and devotion was about after all. Loving even when you had to suffer to do it.

Her repression had given her heartburn though, and she had felt dull and listless and wrung out all day long. No appetite, little energy, just sort of drifting through her classes when normally she was always the first to raise her hand to answer questions and the first to volunteer information to lead discussions. She was too bummed out to even care if people noticed that she was bummed out, which given the gossip factory Tokiwadai was, would surely be discussed at length by various busybodies before the day was done. But how could she care about such trivial matters when the girl she loved, the girl she wanted to devote the rest of her life to making happy, was infatuated with some dirty, crude, cowardly, disrespectful troglodyte of a boy!? No, not just infatuated, she was so caught up in him she would even defend his obvious deficiencies and get angry at Kuroko in the process! As if she would LIE to Onee-Sama about what she saw the boy doing with the Zephyr Queen!

 _I have no need to lie, Onee-Sama!_ Kuroko groaned despairingly to herself. _I told you the truth as I saw it! That boy is dangerous, and rude, and disrespectful! He starts trouble and then runs away and leaves me holding the bag! He's selfish and inconsiderate! And he holds you back when you're fighting! And yet when I point that out, you get angry at ME, and tell me that I'm misrepresenting him out of jealousy! Onee-Sama, do you not know how much that hurts me? I will admit, I am jealous of him... how could I not be, when he gets from you everything I want... and is completely oblivious to it! He calls himself misfortunate, while he is loved and pursued by the most amazing girl in the whole damn world! He is SO LUCKY! And he doesn't even know it. Of course I'm JEALOUS! Anyone would be! But my jealousy doesn't control me! Onee-Sama, do you really think so little of me, that you think I would resort to lies to try and gain your love?_

"Shirai-san, are you okay? You've seemed off all day long." A familiar and annoying female voice asked from beside Kuroko's desk. _Great. Just what I don't need._ Kuroko grumbled internally, as she raised her head from the desk to behold the concerned visage of Mitsuko Kongou, peering at her from behind her ever present fan. Kongou was a relatively recent ransfer student to Tokiwadai, a Level 4 Wind manipulator. She was the heiress of the giant Kongou Aviation Industries corporation, which just so happened to be a direct competitor to Kuroko's own family business, that of a local cruise ship company. She tried not to let that color her dealings with the girl though. Her family's business was barely a blip on Kongou Aviation's radar after all, such was the difference in size between them, and Kongou hadn't even seemed to recognize her as the heiress of a competing company upon meeting her. Her irritation for Kongou stemmed mostly from her cluelessness and the fact that she was a perfect Ojou-Sama most of the time. Despite wishing for her Onee-Sama to be like that, it only irritated her to see Kongou doing it so naturally.

That said, they weren't enemies or anything, and Kongou had rarely been anything worse than arrogantly clueless around her, and was usually quite friendly. She wasn't a bad sort, and had even fought alongside Kuroko and Onee-Sama on several occasions, and performed admirably enough. All the same, Kuroko wasn't feeling like she had the energy to deal with the other girl right then, but she had to reply somehow. _Unngggh. Socialization is such a pain at this school..._ Kuroko griped to herself. "I am fine. I am just tired from my after school activities yesterday." Kuroko answered, speaking slowly and precisely. She hoped that would get Kongou off her back, but of course it didn't.

"Yesterday was quite exciting." Kongou said in bright tones. "When you brought those ACME Espers here, everyone was so excited! And I was especially pleased. That Zephyr Queen is an Aero Hand like myself... the first Level 5 I've ever seen of my own Esper type! Interacting with her was most enlightening! Truly it was a wonderful day!"

"I am so happy you had a good day." Kuroko said, hoping her tone wasn't as flat as her heart felt. It had been one of the worst days of her life, after all. ACME had been rude to her, treating her like she was little more than background noise in favor of the Trog. The Trog had started trouble with ACME and left her to clean up his mess. Onee-Sama had actually admitted out loud that she loved the Trog, and then gotten testily defensive of him when Kuroko tried to show how unsuitable he was just from the actions of that very day! And getting involved in the strangeness of "Magic"! She felt like her head was going to explode and her heart was being filled with ashes! And she still couldn't find the privacy she needed to get her system flushed properly! Though she was done with City Guide duties for a couple days, and Uiharu had promised that with Saten's help on a volunteer basis that Kuroko didn't have to come in to Judgement today, that still left her with a duty thrust upon her by the school.

There was a student transferring into her class, and she was supposed to be the school representative to help the girl get settled in. Transferring into any school in the middle of a term was highly unusual... for Tokiwadai it was unheard of, this was literally the first time it had ever happened, and it could not have been cheap to arrange. Even someone from as powerful and wealthy a family as Kongou had been forced to wait until a new term started for her to transfer after all. But this new girl had made the school bend for her, rather than the other way around. And she wasn't even apparently a Level 5, which maybe could have excused that. At least Kuroko had heard nothing about the girl being a Level 5, and surely the school would have been bragging about getting a third Level 5 student if they could. Kuroko tried to think about how much power and influence and likely cold hard cash it would take to get Tokiwadai's administration to bend the rules like that, and struggled with it. You might be able to BUY a normal school just for your daughter to go to alone for a term, for that kind of money! Of course the allure of the prestige of the Tokiwadai name could not be underestimated either.

What Kuroko was worried about on a more personal level was that a girl from that kind of a background would be like Kongou times twenty in the arrogance and cluelessness about the real world departments. And that was if she was lucky and the girl wasn't an absolute spoiled brat like many Tokiwadai students were. And not only would she be classmates with her, she was even supposed to be responsible for her for her first week or so of school! She checked her phone and saw that it was almost time to go and meet the new girl. "Thank you for worrying about me." Kuroko told Kongou, and surprised herself by actually meaning it a little. Definitely a sign she was in a bad way, if even Kongou could cheer her up a little just by showing some interest in her. "But I have to go greet our newest classmate and show her around the school now."

"Of course. Feel free to bring her by to meet me and my friends if you get the chance. We would be happy to help her get situated and comfortable here. I know how it can be to be a fresh transfer student after all. Maybe I can prevent her from making some of the stupid mistakes I did when I first came here." Kongou said, fluttering her fan expressively.

"I may do that, thank you." Kuroko answered, and was once again surprised to feel she meant it. Maybe dumping the new girl off onto Kongou would be a good idea, especially if she was an annoying spoiled brat. Certainly she did not intend to spend too long showing the new girl around... she had her duties to Onee-Sama to discharge! Today was the first day of her active surveillance of the Trog's life after all, and she wasn't about to miss out on that! Standing and exchanging nods with Kongou, Kuroko quickly teleported herself out of the room and towards the Principal's Office where she was supposed to meet the new girl. She took a route that put her on the rooftops of the school, enjoying the afternoon breeze for those brief moments between arriving and departing from her teleporting, and was at her destination in a matter of seconds, without even having to rush.

This resulted in her being a little early, but that gave her the time to compose herself, building up the facade expected of her as a representative of Tokiwadai and her Onee-Sama. She stood patiently facing the Principal's Office door, faintly hearing conversation from within and surmising that the Principal was talking with the new girl and laying out the expectations of the school. A couple minutes later and the door opened, the Principal herself, a stern faced and grandmotherly looking woman that Kuroko tried to steer well clear of whenever possible, held it open allowing Tokiwadai's newest student to emerge. _That's odd. Usually the Principal stays at her desk and makes the student open the door for herself. Both because the Principal has hip pain from standing and sitting too much, and because it tells the girl that she won't be getting special treatment here at school like she's used to at home. Or not as much anyway._ Kuroko thought to herself, before her line of thought was completely derailed.

The girl that came out from the Principal's office was simply and literally breathtaking, Kuroko feeling herself breathe out hard as she stared at the vision before her. A little bit taller than Kuroko herself, closer to Onee-Sama's height, the girl possessed a slender yet feminine figure that was perfectly emphasized at all the right points, everything completely in proportion, like she was a statue of the ideal teeange girl done by a master sculptor! Her skinw as the color of alabaster, further reinforcing the impression of an artwork, an ethereal masterpiece at the very edge of human ability. But her eyes belied that impression, such a dark blue they were almost black, as deep as a night lit ocean and yet filled with so much vigor and impish knowledge that they brought life and character to her whole body, not just her face. Her hair was as red as fire, flowing down her back, pinned up high behind her head so it fell no further than the backs of her knees, gleaming silkily in the light so that it seemed almost wet. She wore the Tokiwadai uniform, obviously, but somehow it seemed to fit her better than it would other people. Kuroko found her mouth to be suddenly dry and she swallowed thickly.

 _What is this?_ She thought to herself a bit dazedly. Her heart and soul was already pledged to Onee-Sama completely after all. But she was experiencing a visceral and not entirely unpleasant reaction to this girl as well, and it threw her into a moment of confusion. She didn't know this girl at all, yet could not help but feel the slight stirring of attraction to her! _No! It doesn't mean anything. She's beautiful, one of the most beautiful girl's I've ever seen. But she's not a patch on my Onee-Sama! Having a physical reaction to a girl that beautiful is completely natural, especially for someone of my orientation. But a physical reaction and an emotional one are entirely different! Still... that presence... wow. She really is an Ojou-Sama of Ojou-Sama's, and not just because of her background..._

"This is Shirai Kuroko, who will be your guide while you get settled in, Claudia-san." The Principal said, breaking the half trance Kuroko had fallen into. "She will be a classmate of yours. She's a level 4 Teleporter and one of Tokiwadai's most renowned students. Shirai, this is Corbowitz Claudia, our newest student. She is a level 3 Physical Augmenter. I will leave you two to get acquainted." The Principal closed the door to her office, leaving the two of them facing each other from a few feet away.

"Teleportation huh? Sounds like a useful power to me." Claudia said, her informal tone catching Kuroko completely off guard. Her japanese was natural and comfortable, not stilted like one might expect for a newly transferred foreigner. She had the tiniest hint of a French accent, but it was barely there and did not in any way detract from being able to understand her. It just gave her another little exotic hint, as if she needed one. "Much better than just being able to make myself stronger anyway. Lifting heavy weights and throwing them at people is of relatively limited use..." Claudia smiled and it was like the sun had risen it was so bright, her teeth clean and straight and absolutely perfect. "Though it is fun." She added with an impish smirk, leaving Kuroko completely at a loss.

 _What kind of girl is this? Looking like that, from a family like hers, but she acts like this..._ Kuroko did her best to gather her scattered wits. "The grass is often greener on the other side of the fence. I can think of situations where I wouldn't mind having been able to pick up and throw some heavy objects at people." She managed to say, trying to figure out how to act.

"Oh, you need not speak so formally with me, Shirai... can I call you Shirai? I know you Japanese prefer the use of honorifics, but I hope that we can be closer friends than that." Claudia stepped forward to stand directly in front of Kuroko, her pleasant scent, some sort of perfume that Kuroko could not name but felt herself responding to all the same, filling the air around the two of them, subtle but delicious. "And you may call me Claudia. It's what I'm used to. Or what I would like to be used to. You know how people can be... all they see is your family name and how many mansions you have, and they stop thinking of you as a real person. If I wanted people to bow and scrape to me, I would have stayed home. Academy City is supposed to be a meritocracy after all!"

"Uhm, err, yes. Yes it is." Kuroko wanted to take a step back, the girl's presence was nearly overwhelming, and she felt a little faint. She had thought she was immune to being pressured by other girls after hanging around Onee-Sama so much. After all, what normal girl could compare to the aura of a Level 5!? Yet somehow this girl was managing it. "A meritocracy, that is. And I guess you can call me Shirai if you wish... Claudia-san."

"Almost, but I guess Rome wasn't built in a day, so that will have to do." Claudia smiled again. All of a sudden, her aura dimmed considerably, and Kuroko couldn't tell why, but she didn't feel pressured or tongue tied any more, as Claudia reached down and took one of Kuroko's hands in both of her own. Claudia's skin was deliciously soft and ever so slightly cool, and Kuroko had to fight hard not to feel too much enjoyment from the contact. It was intense, in a way she didn't normally feel except during those times when she was nearly intimate with Onee-Sama... but this was hardly intimate contact, just touching her hand. Perhaps she was just feeling sensitive, after what happened yesterday. First with Kongou, now the new girl, she was nursing an injured heart and their actions and regard filled that crack in her core, just a little bit.

"So what brought you to Academy City, Claudia-san?" Kuroko asked, turning aside and pulling away slightly, a flush appearing on her cheeks for a moment as Claudia's fingers slipped from hers, brushing against her fingertips in a way that sent a tingle that was not at all unpleasant through Kuroko's body. She hadn't even known that part of her was sensitive at all!

"Well, what brings everyone here? To become an Esper of course, or to learn about them." Claudia fell into step at Kuroko's side, as naturally as if they did so every day, allowing her to lead them but not with the appearance of doing so. "I was lucky enough to respond quite strongly to the initial power development treatments, or I wouldn't have been able to get in here no matter how wealthy my family is."

"And what does your family do?" Kuroko asked, surprised to find it easy to talk to the new girl, even asking personal questions.

"Many things, but our main source of income is investment in transportation and commercial shipping. We are a majority stockholder in the Three Kings corporation, which recently moved a branch office to this city. My family hails from old French nobility, we've had a long time to put our money in many ventures. What about you? Why are you here? What do you hope to get out of this City? And your family?" Claudia answered curiously.

"My family owns a local cruise line. I've heard of the Three Kings group, its a global conglomerate, maybe the biggest name in shipping and international commercial transport in the world!" Kuroko tried not to be impressed, but that was a level of wealth that put the mere term "wealth" to shame. No wonder she could afford to pay the fees to make Tokiwadai bend over backwards for her. "I'm here to be an Esper, just like you, though I started at a lower level and worked my way up to where I am. It wasn't easy, but it's worth it!"

"I envy you." Claudia stated, catching Kuroko a bit off guard.

"Envy me? Why?"

"It may seem strange to you, but since I acquired my power so easily, I fear I may not value it as much as someone who had to work for it so hard like you did. I was born with many advantages... incredible wealth, family influence, personal beauty, apparently even potential for a level 3 Esper ability. But I didn't have to work for any of it, it just comes to me through natural talent and luck. I feel I would enjoy it all more if I had worked to earn it, as you have your power, rather than simply inheriting it, so to speak." Claudia explained.

"I understand now. I know exactly what you mean. My Onee-Sama... I mean, my good friend Misaka Mikoto... started off as a Level 1, and worked her way all the way up to Level 5. That takes a lot of talent obviously, but also hard work and determination, and she treats her power much more carefully and responsibly than most of the other Level 5's who started out at high level." Kuroko said proudly.

"It is the trap that power brings." Claudia agreed with a sage nod. "The easier you acquire it, the less you understand how great that power actually is, and you can easily begin to underestimate how much that power affects those less fortunate than you. It's the same for any type of power, including Espers of course."

"You know, it feels odd to admit this, but I was so sure you were going to be a spoiled brat because of your background." Kuroko replied with a self conscious laugh. "Its refreshing to hear someone from your background with such a solid grasp of how other people can feel about your privilege."

"There are things in this world that money, talent, power and privilege cannot buy you, no matter how much of them you have. Some things you can only earn for yourself, often with great suffering and effort." Claudia got a faraway look in her eyes for a moment. "Those things of course, are the true treasures of your life. Such as the unabashed regard of your friends. Or the love of those you care for. Things like that, even if you have to suffer to get them, are always worth it in the end, right?"

"Y-yeah... exactly." Kuroko smiled in pleasure, that someone else understood how she felt, even if they did not realize it.

"Sooo..." Claudia smiled in a way that made Kuroko's heart quiver slightly. "You call this girl Onee-Sama do you? That sounds quite affectionate. Tell me more..."

"No no no, don't read too much into it! We're friends, and roommates, that's it." Kuroko protested, though she could not help but sigh a little.

"That may be it, but forgive me if I am too forward, it does not sound like you are happy with it, Shirai." Claudia took her by the hand again and squeezed lightly. "I understand if you don't want to open up to me about private things, as you barely know me at all. But perhaps I might be able to offer an unbiased perspective? I will hold it in full confidence of course... after all, I'm relying on you to help me settle in here... I need a friend like you! It's been so long since I had anyone to actually call a friend..."

"W-well, let us just say that while I might not be entirely happy with things as they are, what I am happy with is being able to be of use to my Onee-Sama. Being able to stay by her side and help her out with her problems, that's worth more to me than anything!" Kuroko said fervently.

"It sounds to me like you're in love." Claudia said with a smile dancing around her lips, causing Kuroko to flush. She usually didn't care if people knew about her affections for Onee-Sama... it wasn't like she tried to hide them after all. But somehow the knowing glint in Claudia's eyes made her feel like she'd bared her soul to the other girl, even with just those few words. "Do not be embarrassed, Shirai! There is nothing in all the world more pure and beautiful than the unashamed love of one girl for another! I am happy for you!" Claudia went on, her encouragement only making Kuroko flush worse. After all, even in a place as egalitarian as Academy City, there were plenty of conservative sorts who looked down their nose at the mere suggestion of a girl with girl romance, to say the least. And not a few of them went to this school.

"Um, t-thank you..." Kuroko gathered herself with an effort, though she felt a little bit as if her hurt heart was healing all the same. Support from an unexpected source, but it was still support, and she hadn't even realized how badly she needed it, after all the horrible things that had been happening lately regarding her Onee-Sama and the Trog. "A-anyway, this way is the classroom. Class is done for the day, but I'll show you around anyway..."

xxxx

 **District 10, Academy City Cemetary, Evening**

"My Lord, we have arrived." Sven announced, as he pulled the car in to the curb and parked it. It was just him and the Master on this particular mission, and he was simultaneously overjoyed and nerve-wracked by it. It was a great honor but also a great responsibility. He had pledged his life and very soul to darkness in order to serve the Lord Izarde, and the penalties for allowing harm to come to him in any way were severe to say the least. On the other hand, serving the Lord Izarde so directly was a pleasure, a reward in and of it self. His fellow Blood Knights spread across the world, the dedicated order of Enforcers and Assassins that served the Hollow Ones as physical deterrents and troops, complimenting the more magic focused Hollow ONes themselves, would be so jealous of him! He would need to be on guard in the future. Blood Knights were not always known for their strong sense of self control, and most dealt with things that bothered them by destroying them in a violent manner. Well, bring them on then. They were ready for any challengers.

"Oh, so we have." Izarde replied, from where he was slouched in the back seat of the nondescript sedan, poking at his mobile phone. It was one of the ones with a flip screen and physical keyboard, rather than a touch screen like most modern phones. His fingers couldn't be read by the sensors of the touch screen, perhaps because of his Undead nature. Sven had wanted to take a more heavily armored car, but Izarde had overruled him, knowing that nothing short of an actual tank could provide even noticeable protection against most of his enemies, so he might as well ride in relative comfort and quiet. Izarde put the phone away into his breast pocket, and gathered up his cane. He did allow Sven to exit the car first, his minion looking around suspiciously like a good bodyguard ought, before opening his door for him.

It was mostly all just to make Sven feel better and more relaxed of course. Being considerate of the needs of your minions was one of the lessons that Izarde would have taught to any prospective evil Overlords out there if he could. It was so tempting to regard them as just disposable tools and weapons, to be used up and replaced as need be. And that was what they were after all. But they were also people, or at least most of them had once been people, and they had human emotions, motivations and feelings for the most part. Pandering to such took relatively little effort, and paid great dividends in loyalty and job performance in his experience. Many a dark mage wanted to be feared, but while being feared by your enemies was good, being feared by your own minions was just asking for trouble. Especially when it really wasn't that hard to earn their love... most of them were desperate for a strong leader to put their faith in after all, someone to guide the chaos of their lives.

"How was your day, faithful Sven?" Izarde made small talk as they casually ambled their way into the cemetery, drawing a few looks from some passerby, but their formal suites and posture quickly convinced most observers that they were there to pay their respects to a dead friend of some sort.

"Drenched in the blood of our enemies, my lord." Sven smiled thinly. "Screams and lamentations rose up unto the heavens so loudly at times, I am surprised you could not hear them at the tower. These Academy City criminals and especially their Espers, are a brittle sort of thug. So wrapped up in their powers, that when they encounter something beyond the scope of their experience, they become crying babes, confused and in denial. As a soldier it has been pathetically easy work in most cases, with only light casualties suffered on our side. Zombies and Ghouls and Wights are easily replaced of course. As a Blood Knight of the Macabre Court though, it has been satisfying in the extreme. Marchosias is pleased as well."

"That is good, but do not become overconfident. We have only come up against the dregs of their underworld so far. Bear in mind the fate of the Black Hands, always. They came up against a Level 5, and were soundly crushed in the process. And she wasn't even the strongest Esper in this city." Izarde counseled his guard. They made their way past rows of headstones, and he reached out with his necromantic senses. He could feel the corpses waiting tensely in their graves beneath the soil, just itching for his command to rise up and serve. But they just felt like normal corpses, which was disappointing. Perhaps they had been in the ground too long, suffered too much decay. A fresher corpse might be more what he was hoping for, so he steered them towards the on-site morgue.

"We will not fail you, my Lord. Our soul is pacted to that!" Sven promised with the determination of the true fanatic, as they approached the doors to the morgue.

"I'm sorry, we're closed for the day." An employee of the Cemetery announced, leaving from another door in the building, noticing them approaching. "Viewing hours are from 10 am to 4 pm, I'm afraid. You can make an appointment with the Burial Administration for a later time, but I haven't heard about any such things today, and I'm the last person on site. Don't worry though, anyone you've come to visit here won't mind waiting another day." The man smiled with gallows humor.

"Is that so?" Izarde replied dryly, feeling Sven tense in anticipation at his side. "How truly fortunate. Sven." He said only his guard's name, but it was enough. Sven stepped forward and grabbed the cemetery employee by the collar of his shirt, hoisting him into the air, drawing a yell of protest and anger. That yell turned into a scream, and then a crunch, and then a wet gurgle that trailed away in a rattle, as Sven hurled the man headlong into the doors of the Morgue as if he were pitching a football, smashing the unfortunate man's head down into his shoulders and leaving a messy smear of blood on one door, which was knocked ajar by the impact. Efficient, disposing of a witness and opening a door in one action.

Izarde stepped over the crumpled body, pushing open the door and stepping inside, Sven on his heels. Inside the building was ultramodern, as one might expect of Academy City. All clean tile floors and whitewashed walls with inset video screens ofering information about the contents and temporary residents of each viewing room. But he wasn't interested in the bodies of the already prepared for burial corpses, he was interested in the raw intake. And thanks to Sven's actions during the day, he expected there to be at least a few fresh Esper bodies collected off the streets and taken here for identification and processing. The actual morgue part of the morgue was deeper inside the building, past another pair of locked doors, but Sven blasted them down with a fireball conjured from his palm, and they moved on without slowing. Alarms began to sound, but Izarde ignored them. Seeing who came, or did not come, to this intrusion, would be instructional on its own. He felt like he was being observed from somewhere... but by who?

"Ah, this is what I was looking for." Izarde announced as they entered the dissection rooms and saw the bodies laid out on the slabs, each of them under a vacuum sealed sheath of palstic to preserve them until the next day shift arrived to investigate their cause of death. Mostly Izarde suspected they would find they had died of massive trauma, usually involving shearing forces applied to the head and neck, crushing forces applied to the limbs and chest, or extreme heat applied to the whole body. Sven's handiwork was on display everywhere. He tore back one such plastic sheathe with a flick of his fingers, leaning forward to inspect the teenaged female corpse behind it, with half her head crushed flat and her arms and legs covered in blisters and charred patches of skin. He reached out a finger and began poking at the ruins of her skull. He could feel something about this body, that was not like what he was used to. Most intriguing...

"It takes a really twisted sense of guts to mess around with a girl's body after she dies!" A stern and disgusted voice announced exuberantly from the entrance to the dissection room, causing Sven to whirl around in surprise, having not heard their accoster coming. It was a young man, a male teenager of about the same age as the girl that Izarde was investigating. He wore a standard school uniform, more or less, though his jacket was slung about his shoulders like a cape, and he wore a T shirt with the symbol of Japan's rising sun on it, and a long white tailed headband on his forehead. He had shaggy black hair and fierce eyes as he stood in the doorway. "I got a weird phone call from an anonymous number about some shady characters poking around in the Cemetery, and figured that would require some real nasty guts, so I checked it out. And what do I find, but a couple of desecrators like you? Normally speaking, I'd challenge you to a battle of guts! But your guts are foul! I'm just going to beat you down and see if I can't squeeze the foulness from your guts with the power of my fists!" He announced with total confidence.

"Sven." Izarde said simply, without turning from his investigations. Sven in turn whipped a heavy caliber handgun from within his coat pocket and fired several times at the intruding boy. Not a single bullet reached him, all of them bouncing off some sort of invisible force field around the boy. Even when Sven infused the bullets with magic, causing them to burst into bright red and orange and blue flames, none of them touched the boy.

"A gun? That takes no guts at all!" The boy shouted, suddenly blurring forward and punching Sven in the stomach, hurling the much larger man backwards like he'd been struck by a car, smashing through one of the morgue walls and tumbling into the space behind. The loud boy turned towards Izarde to confront him about his continued investigations of the girl's corpse, only to be knocked back in turn as Sven came charging out of the rubble of the wall, snarling with his suit ripped and torn, and bodily tackled the boy, smashing him into the ground and unleashing a burst of intense flame from the palm of his hand at point blank range. "You're tougher than you look!" The boy sounded happy about it, as he threw Sven off him, smashing the Blood Knight into the ceiling, cratering it in the process.

"Take him outside to play." Izarde ordered coldly, feeling another presence starting to approach them.

"Of course my Lord. We will deal with this annoyance soon enough." Sven promised with a glare at the boy, who seemed unruffled and unharmed despite the close range flame thrower attack he'd just received. He hurled himself at the boy again, grabbing him and lifting him and hurling him, like he had the civilian earlier, the boy seemingly letting him, with one quirked brow. Sven hurled him through the same crater he'd made moments before in the ceiling, leaving a boy shaped hole in the ceiling, enlarged moments later as Sven leapt out after the pursuit of his prey.

Izarde waited about a minute, before turning to look at the figure who had finally appeared in the entrance to the morgue. He leaned on his cane and doffed his hat in mocking greeting. The woman standing in the doorway made no reply, dressed in jeans with one leg cut short, and an asymmetrical white shirt. She had a long dark ponytail, and clutched a long and slender and curved japanese sword, still in its sheathe, in one hand. "I was wondering who the Angelicans would send. To think they would be so bothered as to deploy their Tactical Nuke." Izarde said with amusement.

"I have come to bring you to justice, Necromancer." Kaori Kanzaki, leader of the Amakusa church and one of only twenty Saints alive in the world, said without much inflection, her posture casual but collected. "Your actions threaten to destabilize this entire part of the world. I will stop you."

"Just this part of the world? I must try harder." Izarde answered with equal casualness. "You may try to stop me, little girl. Will it be as easy as that though... I wonder..."

Then there was no more time for words... only the flash of movement and the hiss of metal wires...


	15. In Pursuit of Trouble

**Author Note:**

Ren: I had not heard that, but I am glad to know it now. I wonder how much it will cover? It seems a lot of my favorite shows are getting new seasons lately... Berserk, Overlord, now Index/Railgun. As for being in the same league as the top authors of the fandom, well, thank you for the vote of confidence. I know I'm a great Gundam writer, but that's a different sort of story than an Index/Railgun story is. I am content with my ability to write action and plot and such. Its getting the teenage interpersonal drama and spontaneous humor, slapstick or otherwise, correct that I worry about. Though honestly, what gives me inspiration is hearing what you did or did not like about the chapters you've read, far moreso than news of an anime coming in the future. Especially if you notice any odd details or moments that make you think you may know what is coming in the future. I always enjoy attempted predictions from my readers, and I try to lay down plenty of foreshadowing before most major events to see if people notice anything.

RPGpersona: Thank you for all your reviews thus far. I really enjoy your stream of consciousness style, progressing through the events of the chapter as you notice them and comment upon them.

xxxx

 **Academy City, District 10 Cemetery, Night of October 3rd, Outside the Morgue**

 _A People Clearing Spell...?_ Sven noted with surprise, upon exiting the morgue in pursuit of the annoying Esper boy who had rudely and foolishly interrupted the Lord Izarde in his labors. He landed on the evenly mown lawn that covered much of the cemetery, under which the graves of hundreds, perhaps even thousands of Espers and Academy City residents laid in peaceful rest. Given how long the city had been in operation, and how callous it could be with the lives of its subjects and populace, the cemetery was only surprising in how small and underpopulated it was. The vast majority of the casualties Academy City "suffered" in the name of its progress, must be interred either outside the city or disposed of in some other way... perhaps mass cremation. That was a good way of hiding the bodies in most cases. Sven was quite familiar with it from his own work. Sometimes he was even so efficient as to begin the cremation before all the subjects were entirely dead. The screams of souls burning alive frequently echoed in his dreams. Good times.

He noticed the spell both because his limited magical training finally got within range of the field's perimeter, and because aside from him and the Esper boy, the entire place was empty. It was late at night, in a part of the city that was not much frequented even during daylight hours, but with the alarms he and the Lord had set off within the Morgue, there should have been some sort of response from the city authorities, but even his enhanced senses could not hear any sirens or vehicles in the distance. Only the quiet chill wind of the autumn night, and the breathing of the pest in front of him. Sven's eyes narrowed dangerously. The presence of a People Clearing Spell meant that this Esper was not working alone, there was another threat around, a magician of some flavor was loose in the cemetery. Lord Izarde was under threat! If not of harm... that was hard to imagine... then of inconvenience at least, which was just as distressing in its own way to Sven, who had been raised and trained since birth to put the needs and whims of the Lord Izarde above all other concerns.

But he'd also been given specific orders by Lord Izarde to deal with this particular nuisance in front of him now. Clearly the Lord had already detected the Magician and had decided to deal with them alone. Either that or this was another test for Sven, to see if he could defeat this Esper in timely fashion and return to his Master's side to prevent the other interfering fly from buzzing about too much! Sven scowled, displeased with himself for being so weak as to force his Master to either send him away to focus on a single opponent, or to require continual testing of his worthiness even at this stage of his service to the Hollow Ones. He quickly reloaded his pistol and sent another barrage of flame infused bullets screaming through the air at the Esper in front of him. This time there was no energy barrier blocking them... instead the boy simply dodged, moving at speeds almost faster than Sven's enhanced eyesight could comprehend, ducking and bending around each individual bullet, like something out of an action superhero movie! The boy didn't even move his feet, simply his upper body and head, completely evading every shot without moving from his position.

"I told you before, using a gun lacks guts. Adding incendiary bullets does not change that." The boy announced in overloud tones. His volume and enthusiasm levels seemed permanently set to around 8 out of 10, and went up from there. "I will give you one more chance. Surrender, and repent your vile ways! Desecrating the dead is an act of evil only the most gutless would commit! Surrender, or I will be forced to beat you until you are incapable of resisting arrest."

 _I hate the preachy ones..._ Sven thought to himself sourly. _**THEIR AGONY TASTES THE MOST DELICIOUS.**_ Commented Marchosias with barely restrained hunger, from the place deep within Sven that his soul splinter resided. Sven ignored the comment, though as with all things Marchosias said, it was the truth. The holier the spirit, the more delicious it's torment was to a Demon like his soul-partner. He had shared his mind and spirit and occasionally his body itself, with the Demon for more than a decade now, and had grown adept at tuning him out except when his comments were germane and helpful to the situation at hand. Which was rarely, as Demons had a very different perspective on things than mortals. It was rare for Marchosias to speak to him at all in recent years, the Demon making his presence known mostly through aberrant feelings and dark dreams at seemingly random times... a Demon's perceptions of time and urgency were also things that did not always line up with mortal values.

"What is it with you and guts?" Sven retorted, reloading his gun once more. The boy said it was useless, yet he used his powers to block or dodge the bullets all the same. That suggested that if he COULD hit the bastard, the bullets would harm him in some way. _**PERHAPS HE WISHES TO SEE THEM SPREAD OUT ON THE GROUND?**_ Marchosias said with his usual bloody humor. Two comments in a row. This Esper boy was special after all, to draw such notice from the Demon within him.

"Guts are the basis of my power! They are what separates a true hero from merely a man with power! Guts are what guide a man to do the right thing, and stand up once again even when his body is telling him to lie down and quit!" The Esper replied with complete seriousness, as if his words made any sense at all. Then again, who was Sven to judge? He had seen stranger uses of magic with his own eyes. Maybe this "guts" thing was like a form of Idol Theory, where the more he believed in its symbology, the more powerful his ability would become.

"Have you ever seen your guts? Let me show them to you, up close and personal!" Sven answered, reaching into his coat pocket with his other hand. Sven's coat had been enchanted by the Lord Izarde, one of several gifts granted to Sven, and all Blood Knights, upon their graduation from/survival of the training program. In most cases, as with Sven, the enchantments incorporated some standraded defensive spells to increase the protective qualities of the clothing, allowing to function like armor against gunfire and physical trauma, as well as spatial distortion magics within the pockets allowing a Blood Knight to carry a considerable arsenal with them wherever they went, weightless and undetectable by mortal authorities until they were brandished and used. Sven withdrew one of his favored weapons from the pocket, a heavy duty battle axe with a barbed spike on the opposite side from the blade, made entirely of damascus steel, weighted for dismembering and cleaving bodies apart with a single strike. It was quite heavy, a normal man would have required two hands to use it, and would have been fairly slow and awkward. However Sven was no normal man.

A prospective Blood Knight of the Hollow Ones was selected at birth or soon after, either an orphaned child taken in from the streets of the harsh world by one of their affiliated mortal organizations, or more rarely, a child voluntarily given as tribute by the Hollow Ones who sired progeny of their own. They were raised their entire lives within the Blood Knight Order, knowing only duty, discipline, training and bloodshed. Weaknesses such as mercy, gentleness, kindness and attaching unnecessary value to your own life were stamped out quickly and ruthlessly. Callousness and brutality was encouraged amongst the trainees, and many murdered their first rival trainee before they were old enough to enter elementary school. This was not punished unless you made a mess of doing so, such as being badly wounded in turn. From the moment a Blood Knight began training, the only love they knew was that of Lord Izarde, who watched over them during many of their most important tests. He was their father, their mentor, their God, their entire reason for being, the centerpiece of their existence.

As a Blood Knight progressed and showed the ability to survive and even thrive on the brutal existence of training, they were slowly enhanced via the use of magical spells applied to their bodies, cast over and over again until the magic sank into their flesh and bones and blood and marrow. Some spells were applied as tattoos, others as ritual scarification. Some were even applied internally, the young trainee sliced open on an operating slab without the use of anasthesia and their innards probed and poked and even sometimes re-ordered into patterns of mystical significance, and it was considered a great shame to scream even once during such a procedure. Enhancements to strength, to speed, to reflexes, durability, senses, all sorts of physical characteristics were applied to make a Blood Knight first reach the pinnacle of human performance and then exceed it. Most Blood Knights had little in the way of magical talent, and what little they did have was usually repurposed to maintianing the magical enhancements woven into and upon them. They were the bloodied clenched fist of the Hollow Ones after all, their physical enforcers, leaving the weaving of spells to the Hollow Ones themselves.

A Blood Knight graduated from the program at age 15, though less than 5 percent of all initial trainees survived to reach that stage. The graduation ceremony involved a large and compelx ritual performed by the Lord Izarde himself, which cleaved the very soul of the Blood Knight, forcefully ripping away what remained of their innocence and condemning it to the depths of Hell... literally, as that hole in their soulw as patched with a splinter taken from a Demon's soul, fusing the two into a conglomerate entity. Only those Blood Knights with the strongest wills and the greatest devotion to Lord Izarde survived this ritual. Those who were unworthy immolated in Hellfire from the inside out, or transformed uncontrollably into a twisted mass of corrupted flesh with no regard to the limits of mortal biology which perished in indescribeable agony shortly thereafter. Those who survived were able to call upon the power of their soul bound Demon to manifest magic like abilities to enhance their combat prowess.

Demons were beings on a cosmic scale similar to that of Angels, and many of them had once been Angels, fallen from grace through mysterious means, acquiring sentience and free will in the process, which Angels did not normally possess. They were constrained away from normal reality, trapped within prison dimensions known generally as Hell, that prevented them from interacting with the mortal world except through dreams and aberrant impulses implanted in the minds of susceptible mortals. Hwoever, with the proper magic ritual of soul bonding, a Demon could manifest the tiniest fraction of their power in the mortal world through their soul bond, granting magical abilities to their bound host, and even in some cases allowing communication between the two bound souls. Though actually communicating with a full Demon was something only the greatest of Mages could do while retaining their sanity... a soul bond was more like a filter that translated the emotions felt by a Demon into words that a human could understand without losing their mind.

Sven's Demon half was named Marchosias, who was amongst other things, a Demon of Fire, granting Sven the ability to generate and hurl blasts of flame, immolate his body, or ignite the weapons he wielded without damaging their structure. He himself was also largely immune to fire, including his own obviously. It was not perhaps as powerful or flexible as the flames wielded by a true Fire Mage would be, but the use of the magic was also inherent and did not require magical arrays, props or circles to function, which paired well with a Blood Knight's physical approach to combat. Sven called forth the power of Hell's flames into his battle axe, wreathing it in a halo of blood red and pain white flames, while blue fire dribbled out of the barrel of his pistol, and orange and yellow flames like candles danced along his arms and chest and in his hair. The next moment he hurled himself at the Esper boy, who had patiently waited this whole time, out of some sort of misguided sense of honor, or perhaps overconfidence... either way Sven as glad to take advantage of it!

He brought the flaming axe down in a shearing cut aimed at severing the boy's left arm from his shoulder before carving into his side and splitting his rib cage, to ignite the boy's lungs and heart within his chest cavity, while he brought his pistol forward, to press the barrel to the boy's head and unleash contact shots that could not be dodged! To any normal man, Sven would have been an impossible blur of aggression and ferocity, crossing ten meters of open ground in several huge bounds, vaulting off a headstone which crumbled slightly under his strength as he pushed off from it, hurtling through the air as an avatar of bloody death, face twisted in a leer that was positively Demonic. In turn the Esper boy took a deep breath, firmly stamped his right foot on the ground as he centered his posture, and punched the air in front of him just as Sven reached him, while loudly yelling. "AMAZING PUNCH!"

The next thing Sven knew his body had been struck by an unexplainable force while explosions of blue and red and yellow smoke burst out of nowhere behind the Esper boy, backlighting him dramatically! Sven was dimly aware that he'd lost his axe and pistol at some point as his body ragdolled backwards through the air, catapulted away from his foe, smashing bodily through several solid stone grave markers, exploding them into chunks of gravel as he bounced and rolled and skidded along the ground of the cemetery for nearly twenty meters, digging a shallow trench of dirt in the mowed lawn before coming to a rest, flat on his back and spread eagled! Sven stared up at the night's sky, winded and and sore and with his ears ringing, feeling more than a little dazed and confused. _What in all the names of Hell hit me!? It wasn't his fist, I know that at least!_ He pushed himself up on his forearms, shaking his head to clear it, tasting blood in his mouth and feeling it trickle down his head and back from various small cuts he'd suffered.

 _ **IN ALL THE NAMES OF HELL, I ADMIT, I DON'T KNOW.**_ Marchosias answered him sardonically. _**YOU SHOULD BE CAREFUL NOT TO BE HIT LIKE THAT TOO OFTEN THOUGH. IT WOULD INCONVENIENCE ME IF YOU WERE TO DIE SO SOON. GOOD HOSTS ARE HARD TO FIND.**_

 _Your concern is noted._ Sven retorted drily, staggering upright, surprised to feel so woozy from just one blow. He'd been tempered in pain and hatred from as far back as he could remember, and magically enhanced to boot. He was not used to feeling hurt in battle, certainly not from just a single punch of his foe. He concentrated, drawing deeply upon Marchosias's gifts, generating large balls of fire in his hands, which he hurled at the Esper boy, again and again and again, a stream of flaming orbs the size of human heads arcing across the sky towards the Esper, as Sven charged back along the trench his own body had made in the grass. These balls of hellfire would burn almost any mortal substance without need for fuel, nearly impossible to douse with water, sand or other materials, burning hot enough to melt through even tank armor in short order!

The Esper with the rising sun emblem slapped them out of the sky with the backs of his hands like he was deflecting tennis balls. Orbs of blazing Hellfire scattered left and right, igniting patches of grass and melting holes in stone grave markers, but caused no particular harm to the Esper, not even singing his hands, and Sven slowed his charge to a halt. He was a fanatic, and took pride in that designation. But Lord Izarde had not raised him to be a total idiot either. And only a fool would charge back into range of an attack he did not understand, especially when his own attacks were deflected aside as if they were little more than child's play. "I guess you have some guts that aren't rotten after all. There's few people in this City who have gotten back up again after taking one of my Amazing Punches head on like that." The Esper commented with respectful tones. "But it must be obvious now. You are no match for me. Surrender, and you need not suffer any more pain. I don't enjoy fighting people who are weaker than me."

 _ **HE IS AN AGGRAVATING ONE, ISN'T HE? WHY DON'T YOU ALLOW ME TO PLAY WITH HIM SOME?**_ Marchosias suggested blandly. Sven considered it. It was a dangerous tactic, one he considered his ultimate trump card. A Possessed like him could, through their own willing submission to the Demon within them, allow that Demon to form a more active conduit between Hell and the Mortal World, through their mortal flesh. This would allow the Demon to manifest an Avatar of their immortal self, with a somewhat larger fraction of their true power, transforming the host body, in this case Sven's, into a more suitable shape. The power increase in both physical and magical senses was substantial to say the least. The downsides were that it was incredible painful and traumatic, both physically and spiritually, and risked Sven losing his mind or his soul if his willpower wavered at any point during the process. And it was difficult to force the Demon to demanifest... generally the transformation only ended when the Demon grew bored, or when a very powerful mage like Lord Izarde used a special spell of banishment.

It had been over five years since he had last confronted a foe that required him to allow Marchosias to fully Possess him, and in that situation he'd been fighting an entire Cabal of magicians, which he had turned into mincemeat and smears of gore thinly splattered across several hundred square meters in so doing of course. _**OR YOU COULD SIMPLY ALLOW THIS CALLOW YOUTH TO CONTINUE TO MOCK US AS HE PUSHES US AROUND LIKE A SCHOOLYARD BULLY, OF COURSE. I REMEMBER HOW MUCH YOU LIKED TO BE PUSHED AROUND DURING TRAINING BY THE OTHER KNIGHT CANDIDATES. SVEN THE PUSHOVER, IS THAT HOW YOU WANT TO BE KNOWN IN THE ORDER?**_ Marchosias taunted him as Sven wavered. Resorting to his Demon was almost an admission of weakness in some ways after all, and was risky in a lot of ways, not least of which was that after Marchosias transformed them back to Sven's form, he would be exhausted, weak as a babe in arms, for several hours, compltely unable to serve or protect the Lord Izarde in the meanwhile. On the other hand, being beaten up by a boy a decade younger than him, Esper or not, would not serve Lord Izarde well either, and if he failed in his assigned mission and left Lord Izarde alone against two foes, the other Blood Knights would certainly come for him even if he survived and rend him limb from limb with their outrage and disgust.

 _Very well then. Take me, Marchosias. Teach this arrogant little brat what it means to mess with a true Blood Knight. Show him his guts, tangled around your claws, and then fill them with the fires of Hell!_ Sven thought savagely, grinning at the Esper boy as he braced himself for what was to come, opening his soul. "NGAAARRRRRGGHHHHHGG! NNNNOOOOFF **FFFFFFRRRREEEEEEE!** " Sven screamed in agony and terror as his soul was dragged down into the pits of Hell and a force infinitely darker, bloodier and more foul than any human spirit could ever become flooded up in its place. It was always like this. Possession was not a pleasant thing, even when undertaken willingly. He staggered, blood spouting from his mouth, pouring from his ears and eye sockets as he clawed at himself, tearing his flesh with his own fingernails, weaving from side to side as his body began to grow, to change, to transform, his clothing ripping apart, muscles bulging, bones cracking and snapping as they broke, then realigned in new formats, becoming animalistic, with paws instead of hands and feet, and claws instead of nails. His voice tone change from a scream of agony and terror to a roar of exultation and release in mid utterance, a roar which echoed across the city, or would have if not for the People Clearing Field keeping the fight contained.

Black hair burst from Sven's skin all over his body, covering him in a wiry pelt that dripped with foulness and the matted gore of a billion atrocities. He gained almost half again his original size in height, and closer to four or five times his original mass, power pouring into him in waves of hellish fire that scorched his surroundings to black and white ash in moments. His back and shoulders bulged and rippled, before two massive feathery wings like those of an eagle, burst forth from the swelling pustules, flapping and spraying ichor and corpse grease from the blackened feathers. A hiss like a steam train boiler breaching sounded as a huge scaly viper erupted from his tailbone, its scales as green as poisonous bile and harder than steel as it coiled and flexed and slithered in the air with a mind and a malevolence of its own, darting back and forth under its own volition behind him, as long as a bullwhip and as thick as a large man's arm. His head was the last to transform, his human skull warping and deforming, nose and mouth extending outward to form a muzzle, ears moving to the top of his ehad to become larger and pointier, until he took on the countenance of a great feral wolf, with eyes of glowing red ember, and with blazing orange and yellow fire pluming out from between his jagged teeth with every stentorian breath. **"FREE AGAIN! FREE IN THIS WORLD OF SENSATION, THIS PURE AND DELICATE AND OH SO FRAGILE REALITY! OH, THANK YOU, BOY, YOU DO NOT KNOW WHAT FAVOR YOU HAVE DONE ME! I PROMISE, AS THANKS, YOUR AGONY WILL BE SUNG OF ACROSS THIS ENTIRE WORLD!"**

"Oh, are you some kind of pop star or something? You're certainly loud enough to be a good singer, in my opinion." The Esper replied with a self conscious grin. "You sure do have some really amazing guts though! To think you had a winged wolf-snake-fire thing inside you this whole time! I've never seen anything like it! Though I guess it does remind me a little bit of this one guy I know. His thing is Dragons though. I'm getting seriously pumped up! My guts are trembling with excitement!"

 **"I AM MARCHOSIAS, DUKE OF HELL, DEMON LORD AND MASTER OF ATROCITIES UNDREAMED OF BY YOUR LIMITED MORTAL MIND! I WILL TEAR THE SOUL SCREAMING FROM YOUR BODY AND MAKE IT MY PLAYTHING! I WILL EAT YOUR HEART WHILE YOU WATCH, AND MAKE YOUR ENTRAILS INTO A SCARF! I WILL WEAR YOUR SKIN LIKE A LOINCLOTH, AND SUP YOUR BLOOD LIKE WINE!"**

"Maybe pop music isn't your genre. You sound more like a heavy metal or thrash rock sort of guy. But I don't judge! All music takes guts to produce! Sing on, wolf-snake-bird thing! Show your flames and your guts and sing your heart out!"

 **"I CANNOT TELL IF YOU ARE MOCKING ME, OR ACTUALLY THAT STUPID! IN EITHER CASE, YOU WILL SOON REGRET YOUR TEMERITY, ESPER! NOW BATHE IN THE FIRES OF HELL UNDILUTED!"** Marchosias drew back his body, wings flapping and creating a miniature windstorm around him as he drew back his head, inflating his chest, and then breathed a massive gout of Hellfire out at the Esper, a plume of destructive torment more akin to the breath weapon of a kaiju than a simple flamethrower. The Esper smiled, bracing his feet and crossing his arms in front of him, letting the fire reach him and pour over him, his silouhette flickered as the flames roared around him, until even that hint of his presence was drowned out and there was nothing but the roar of flames and the bubbling of melting earth and stone...

xxxx

 **Inside the Morgue, at the same time as the fight between Sven and Gunha**

Kaori Kanzaki, High Priestress of the Amakusa Remix Church, and senior field agent of Necessarius of the English Angelican Church, studied the man who stood before her in the morgue of Academy City's cemetery. He had deeply tanned skin of originally olive complexion, marking him as a likely resident of the Mediterranean area, perhaps Greece or Italy, or the Northern African coastline, with hair the color of space, with blazes of shocking white at the temples and over his ears. He wore a tuxedo like garment that was clearly out of date even by the standards by which most Magicians considered clothes, more appropriate to an 18th century victorian party than any modern setting. He wore rings of gold and silver on his fingers, and he carried an ebon and ivory walking stick or cane with the handle carved into the shape of the Christ on the Cross.

It was an unusual place for such an image in Kaori's experience. Many people who venerated Christ wore or carried his symbol, including a representation of his most glorious moment when he suffered on the cross for the sins of all Mortals. She herself wore a cross on a chain around her neck, though it was plain and unadorned, designed to blend in naturally with her clothing and appearance in the Amakusa style. But it was rare to position that holy symbol in such a way that it was gripped by the hand at all times, and used as part of daily tasks such as walking. Taking a cross in hand to pray was one thing. Leaning on the cross as you walked around, with your hand obscuring it, especially the Cross with the Suffering Christ on it, smacked of mockery or intentional disrespect, rather than religious devotion. Maybe not in all people... an old monk or devout priest might be able to pull it off in the right way, relying on the support of Christ to continue to do his holy work. But this man, this man in front of her, his posture was all wrong for that. Smug and self satisified, indolent and arrogant... he did not deserve to touch the Christ or the Cross in such a familiar manner!

His appearance did match the description she had been given in her briefing though. That of an unknown Magician, claiming to be the leader of a previously unknown Magic Cabal, appearing without warning in Academy City and stirring up trouble, apparently for the sheer pleasure of it. A Necromancer to boot, a practioner of the one of the forbidden disciplines of magic that all major religions condemned, as playing around with the dead and interrupting the afterlife was very definitely a major sin, no matter how you looked at it. Some Necromancers claimed that they served to guard the balance of life and death, but even so, they were looked upon with suspicion and hostility by most mainstream Mages at best. Every religious tradition that Kaori personally embraced, Christianity, Buddhism, and Shintoism, gave special reverence to the dead and demanded respectful treatment of the mortal remains once the immortal spirit passed on, so a Necromancer was a particularly disgusting person in her opinion. And she'd found this one poking around in the murdered corpse of a teenaged girl not too much younger than Kaori herself!

She maintained control of herself however, despite her outrage. She was a Saint after all, and always had to bear that in mind, that acting on impulse and emotion was very dangerous for her, mostly in the amount of harm and destruction she could cause if she cut loose without maintaining her control. She had sworn herself to never taking a life, to being the salvation of those considered unsaveable, trying to emulate the transcendental mercy of Christ the Savior to remain close to him spiritually even as her body was close to his physically. That mercy, that oath of salvation, applied even to disgusting and wretched scum such as the Necromancer before her. She would defeat him, and try not to take enjoyment in it, and then bind him and bring him back to the Church for interrogation, just as she had done for scores of rogue Magicians over the years. Personally, she doubted that he actually led a Cabal... any organization on that scale surely would be known to the Church already. They had spent thousands of years regulating Magic after all, and while occasional Mages did slip through the cracks, nothing like a Cabal could remain hidden from their scrutiny. But the truth would out during interrogation... it always did.

The Necromancer seemed to know who she was... that was not entirely surprising, as there were less than twenty Saints alive in the world, and not all of them were suitable for combat or commonly employed as Magic Police of a sort, like she was. His casual appraisal of her and lack of any visible signs of nervousness was a little offputting. She did not enjoy being feared, but any rational Magician would surely feel at least a little trepidation at being confronted by a Saint! Necromancer's were known for their spells that raised and controlled undead minions, from what little she understood of them. They did not have a reputation as particularly dangerous personal fighters or practioners of powerful offensive or defensive magics. Even in a morgue like this, with dead bodies all around, it would surely take at least some time to cast a spell of reanimation, and Kaori was not about to give him the time to cast such a spell. He replied to her announcement of intent with mockery, and so there was nothing more to say.

She flashed forward, moving at speeds beyond the comprehension of the mortal eye, drawing forth her wires in her favorite move, "Nanasen", controlling the drop forged metal wires with nearly subliminal twitches of her fingers and thumb, causing them to twist and flow and vibrate and spread out in precise patterns, cutting off any paths of movement of the foe, restricting and binding and sealing all at once. It was a very flexible attack, and one that most targets had few defenses against. Even Kamijou, that amazing boy, was largely helpless against the Nanasen, as though Kaori could use it to caste or support magic, it was itself a physical attack, not a magical one. That hadn't stopped him from attempting to stand up to her anyway of course, and eventually he had even humbled her and helped her uphold her oath when she had been in danger of giving in to helplessness and deception and losing it. A debt she was still working to pay off, but now was not the time for such thoughts. Her seven wires seemed to split apart into hundreds of wires, moving so quickly they appeared to be in multiple places at once, trapping the Necromancer at the center of a spider's web of razor edged metal!

Or at least that was the idea. The Necromancer had other ideas though, his hands snatching out in both directions, causing Kaori's eyes to widen as she realized that he was moving at a speed comparable to hers... a normal person should have been little more than a statue at this speed, Kaori's actions taking place faster than they could even blink. But this man, this Necromancer whom she did not know, was moving at her speed, no, even faster though she was not putting forther her full effort yet either. He reached out and snagged her wires, gathering them in his fingers, controlling them with almost as much dexterity as she did, suffering not even a cut as he halted their vibrations and interfered with their positioning, leaving each of them holding seven strands of metal wire with several feet separating them. Kaori gave him a level stare. "Impressive. It has been a very long time since anyone stopped my Nanasen bare handed. Who are you, Necromancer? What are you?"

"These wires are well forged. An ancient technique, employed in a way I have not seen before. I may have to see about collecting them." The Necromancer replied casually, studying the wires trapped between his fingers. He didn't even seem to be breathing hard, and now that Kaori thought about it, she saw that his mouth did not move when he spoke, his lips and teeth apparently clenched at all times. Now that she was closer even, it appeared like far from breathing hard, he didn't seem to be breathing at all! She listened harder, straining her Saint's senses, and confirmed that she did not hear any biological sounds coming from him. Not breathing, not heartbeat, not the flow of blood in his veins. He radiated no bodily warmth. He was present, he was solid... but he was not alive. Revulsion filled her, making her teeth clench as well, as she felt befouled simply by being in his presence, even moreso than before.

"You are Undead! You are an abomination unto God!" She hissed through her teeth at him, ratching up her tension levels a couple notches. That might explain why he was able to move faster than human limits and resist her casual strength, if he was Undead he was not as limited by human restrictions on muscles or nerves.

"That largely depends on how you define God, I think." The abomination replied with a smirk in his voice, if not on his face. His eyes were dull as well, his entire face immobile and frozen, like a mask. Which is probably what it was, a mask to cover his real, rotted features, to permit him to move unremarked in human society. His entire body was false, layers of plastic and rubber mimicking the texture of flesh. Like those horrible, perverted blow up dolls that appeared in that naughty magazine Tsuchimikado had showed her that contained various "intimate outfits" that he recommended she might wear to convery her gratitude to Kamijou in the future. "To your version of God, I am an abomination beyond doubt. In my eyes though, your God is just a pretender, a fraud who picked the best parts of all the religions he saw before him to make his own! Your God is a thief, a liar and a bastard."

"So you are a blasphemer and heretic as well as an Undead abomination. What a surprise." Kaori retorted fiercely, and gave a hard pull on her wires, desiring that they no longer be touched by such a foul being. She put a good portion of her normal strength into it, giving the Necromancer the choice of letting go, or having his fingers sliced off! She wasn't sure how much pain an Undead being could experience, but losing ones fingers would be inconvenient regardless. Unfortunately, the wires did not budge, vibrating with the strain she placed upon them, but the Necromancer held onto them, resisting her pull, without even seeming to be off balance or struggling. "How are you doing this!? I am a Saint! My body wields a portion of the strength of Jesus Christ himself! Mortal man should not be able to resist that power, even if you are Undead!"

"Is it so hard to figure out?" He sounded both amused and despairing, like a teacher interacting with a particularly dense student. "Oh, of course, I forget. You Light siders believe that what you know about the world is the only and actual truth of the world. What you consider the truth of the world, Ms. Kanzaki, is but the happy illusion that men like me allow you all to have because we don't want to be bothered with your interference." The Necromancer released his grip on the Nanasen, almost causing Kaori to stagger backwards were it not for her incredible sense of balance.

"What truth do you claim is false?" Kaori demanded, putting up her wires and placing her hand on the hilt of Shichiten Shichitou, her Nodachi. While Nanasen was her most flexible attack, it was far from her most powerful one. "Speak, monster!" She warned, eyes narrowed with focus. "I am sworn never to take a life, but I am wavering on whether your existence even counts as such anymore!"

"Most of them, really. It is a constant source of ironic amusement to me how much of the True World is built on layer upon layer of lies of all sorts. Lies make people happy after all, while the truth is often harsh and unpalatable. Human civilization does not exist without lies. Magic itself is one of the greatest lies of all, and it is used to propogate more lies all the time." The Necromancer shrugged in an exaggerated motion which Kaori found unsettling. Something that was dead should not move so naturally like a living being would. "The particular truth that is important to our little encounter though, if you want to figure that out, perhaps you should draw your blade. Perhaps you can force it out of me."

Kaori acted in that very moment. Battoujutsu, the sword art of drawing and cutting and resheathing a sword all in the same motion in order to preserve energy and catch the foe off guard, was not one of her favored techniques. It was however one of her fastest and most effective ones. Her Nodachi flashed in the light, a shimmering blur even to her own eyes, aimed at the abomination's hip, a disabling strike that would cut deep into the leg and restrict his future mobility. His cane swung to intercept, a dark blur to her shining one, and Kaori was stunned yet again to have her blade deflected to the side with the sound of ringing metal, the Necromancer's cane obviously reinforced with magic as it clanged against the edge of her sword and locked it up, parrying and halting her blow about halfway through the motion. "You keep taking me lightly. It's beginning to become insulting." The Necromancer said, more like grumbled, as he pushed her sword aside and calmly placed his cane on the floor once again.

Resheathing her sword, Kaori decided to take a slightly different approach, calling up the Nanasen once more and manipulating them into a three dimensional magical circle as she chanted quick words under her breath, calling upon her knowledge of purification and funerary rites to put together a ritual of banishment. A brilliant white glow slowly settled into the area, clinging like freshly fallen snow to the Necromancer's body, limning him in holy light. "I guess I see what you're trying to do here, but I believe this shows your true ignorance of my condition. This spell would work on the mindless risen dead, with no soul of their own, or who are inhabited by astral entities or foreign souls. But my soul is mine, and its right where it belongs. You cannot banish me from this plane of existence, as this is where I belong." The Necromancer told her matter of factly. There was a vast roaring, screaming noise from outside, though Kaori did not allow it to ruin her concentration. He could be bluffing after all, and even if it didn't fully succeed, she doubted it was comfortable for such an Unholy thing to be touched by purification magic. It might slow him down some.

"Though it sounds like there's a Demon outside. Or at least a shadow of one. Maybe you should try your little ritual out there?" The Necromancer's casual attitude was really beginning to get on her nerves. It was true that she did not well understand what an Undead Mage could do. Such knowledge was heavily restricted and forbidden, for good reason. Doubtless knowledge of it was recorded somewhere in the 103,000 Grimoires that Index knew, but her former charge and friend was nowhere nearby, and Kaori preferred to keep it that way. "Oh, are you not worried about the Esper boy who came in before you? He's out there fighting something that is entirely beyond his ability to understand, you know? It's all too likely that he'll end up ripped to shreds or burnt alive if you take too long to deal with me. Should you really be holding back so much still?" Kaori knew that he was taunting her, trying to get her to rise to his baiting, trying to make her angry and lose focus. It was a common tactic of villains, especially ones that liked to believe they had everything under their thumb.

The roar of flames mixed with the sound of a human shouting coming from outside, though even Kaori's Saintly hearing could not make out what was being said over the sound of fire crackling and burning and melting and searing. Which was, yes, disturbing to her, but she restrained her natural instinct to rush out and see what was going on and try to intervene. She had not personally met or interacted with the boy known as Attack Crash by Academy City, but going from Tsuchimikado's opinion of him, which was very close to the same level of esteem he had for Kamijou, she strongly doubted that the boy really required her help. Even if that was a Demon out there, or at least part of one. A full Demon entering the world would have been a calamitous event on the scale of the Angel Fall incident, distorting the world merely through its presence, and she certainly did not sense that level of danger. Daemonology was another forbidden magical practice that she knew relatively little about, except how dangerous it was, both to the practioner and the world as a whole.

The shouting reached a crescendo, and Kaori could have sworn she heard something about something being "Amazing", before she heard a sound she was familiar with... the sonic rumble of a human form exceeding the speed of sound, followed and overlapped almost instantly by the sound of incredible physical force being applied to a resilient target at the same speed. Fractions of a second later, and the wall beside them shattered inwards under the hurtling force of impact from a monstrous being even more foul than an Undead, which had been smashed through the wall, through the morgue, and into the opposite wall, then through that, and out the other side of the building, without appreciably slowing down! It happened fast enough that Kaori only got a fleeting impression of a gigantic humanoid form with the features of a wolf, a gryphon and a serpent mingled together in biologically impossible ways, wreathed in flames that burned with hellish vigor. Some of the wolf-demon's teeth seemed to have been knocked out, though they were already in the process of regrowing.

The Esper boy, Attack Crash, stepped into the breach in the wall he had created by virtue of bowling a Demon fragment through. His formerly white clothing was singed and blacked and smoking in places, his skin slightly reddened along his forearms and cheeks, but aside from the few wisps of smoke from his garments, seemed entirely healthy and hale. And excited, positively eubullient really, with a broad grin on his face and a light in his eyes. He paused for a moment, glancing at Kaori and the Necromancer with a look of slight befuddlement. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize another champion of justice had arrived to confront your gutless evil." Kaori felt the Esper assess her with the experience of a combat veteran, and immediately the boy decided that she was apparently well capable of handling herself. "Well don't let me interrupt. A hero vs villain duel should always be one on one to be the most pure and enjoyable!" With those words he blurred and disappeared, a sonic boom rattling the much battered and partially collapsed morgue as he plunged off in pursuit of the Demon.

"Well that quite undermines that particular line of taunting, doesn't it." The Necromancer observed with a sigh of irritation. "Though my wish is the same. Please stop holding back, Ms. Kanzaki, or this confrontation of ours will go on all night. And at least one of us still has to worry about the perils of aging."

"Careful, or I might give you what you ask for." Kaori responded coldly. "You seem to know who I am, but you do not appear to appreciate what that really means. I am a Saint, one of less than twenty alive in the entire world. My body is strengthed by a close divine connection to the Son of God. No matter how much you have enhanced your strength and speed to allow you to bypass human limits through becoming Undead, you are no match for me. To think otherwise is insanity. I dislike being used as a measuring stick for every two bit mastermind villain who thinks their magic makes them unbeatable. Aside from the purification ritual earlier, I haven't even used magic against you yet. You have held me off, yes, but do not delude yourself into thinking that is because of your strength."

"The only person who is deluded here is you, Kaori Kanzaki, Saint of the Amakusa Remix Church. You spout off at the mouth with your arrogant and childish pronouncements of power and irritation, and though the proof is right in front of you, you refuse to see it, blinkered by your certainty in what you believe is the truth of the world. You have all the facts you should need to realize how rude and foolish you are being. My patience with you, child, is rapidly wearing out. You are correct, being Unliving has allowed me to become less bound by my previous mortal limits in a lot of ways. But where you misapprehend is in thinking that the degree of enhancement is so large as to account for why I am matching you blow for blow so far. That has nothing to do with me being Undead, or using Magic, which I am currently not, same as you. Do I have to say it in plain speech? Are you truly so obtuse? Do they educate you children so little these days?" he Necromancer retorted, his body language showing a great deal of displeasure.

"I get what you're trying to say, I merely disregard it because it is raving lunacy and completely impossible." Kaori countered with a sigh of exasperation of her own. "You appear to want me to believe that you are just as strong and fast as I am by nature, that you are a Saint yourself. But that is impossible. By nature, a Saint possesses a body that is like unto that of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, drawing upon that divine likeness to grant us increased magical and physical power. But because of that very divine link that empowers us, it is impossible for a Saint to be Undead. Jesus Christ died for our sins, but when he rose again, he did so in a Resurrection, alive and well, not undead but living. Your basic premise is flawed beyond repair, and thus not worth considering. You may think yourself at the power level of a Saint, but I assure you, a Saint you are not!"

"Ah. So its not stupidity, it's the blindness caused by believing your own Church propoganda. That accounts for it. The religion of Christ has flourished for so long, gained such cultural hegemony, that it's adherents have come to believe that not only is the "truth" they believe about the world currently correct, but that such an interpretation is the only possible thing that could be correct, now, in the future or even in the past. 2000 years of political and cultural dominance has gone to your heads, and caused you to forget that Magic, the Divine, and mortals with a connection to the Divine have existed for much, much longer than your whingy, self righteous, smarmy Religion!" The Necromancer stepped forward, crossing the distance between them in a flash, so that he stood almost nose to nose with Kaori before she could even draw her Nodachi halfway from its sheathe, getting inside her reach, but not attacking her, simply looming there.

"You described what a Saint is as the Abrahamics define it perfectly. But though we did not call them Saints when I was alive, but rather Demigods, it is the same in the end. Divine blood beats in my veins... or did once, when I still had veins. An Undead Saint of Christ is indeed impossible by the limits of your own Religion and Divine Connection. An Undead Demigod of Pluto on the other hand..." Kaori's eyes widened as she saw the Necromancer raise his fist and plunge it down at her, moving at a speed she had to strain herself to match... not because it was beyond her limit, but rather because she spent most of her time not drawing on that much of her latent power, so she almost sprained a few muscles getting into that gear from a near cold start. She brought her Nodachi, still in its sheath, above her head in a blocking maneuver, and the Necromancer's fist crashed into it with the sound a doom's knell, a shockwave of compressed air exploding outwards from the point of impact in all directions, reducing the morgue around them to kindling and rubble in a heartbeat, as if a large bomb had been set off within it!

The absorbed force of the blow was strong enough that the parts that Kaori did not control and negate within herself, exploded from the soles of her feet, channeled into the ground and causing it to ablate away from underneath her, forming a crater several meters across and about a meter deep, in the midst of the scattered ruins that had once been the Cemetery morgue. Her Nodachi shook, clattering in its sheathe, pressed against the fist of the Necromancer, who's arm trembled faintly, both of them exerting strength against the other, one to push away, the other to crush down. Kaori could hardly believe it, but had to accept it... this being before her, this undead monstrousity, did indeed have the strength of a Saint, enough to prevent her from throwing him off of her, to make her grit her teeth and strain to resist him even, to contend on her level in a way that she had previously thought possible for less than ten other individuals in the entire world!

It was still impossible... everything she had ever been taught about Saints and their connection to the divine and how it interacted with Magic and the body, told her that you had to be alive to draw upon that Divine Connection. But then again, that was all based on the lore of and legend of Christ... the possibility of Saints arising from other, long defunct, religious traditions, was never even considered. She did not understand how it could be so... how could a God most considered dead, or at least completely irrelevant since Christianty, Islam and Judaism began their climb to ascendancy following the life and times of Jesus Christ, manifest its power in a mortal scion? The lack of worship and belief should have limited that God's power to the point where it could barely even observe the Mortal plane, much less incarnate a portion of its power into a Mortal thereon! How had Pluto... or Hades as he was sometimes more commonly know, by Greek instead of Roman precepts... managed to create such a link when the Abrahamic religions dominated the traffic between the Divine and the Mortal, and had for over 2000 years now? And how had nobody noticed such a thing... surely it would have appeared in prophecy somewhere, if such a thing was occuring in the world!

Drawing upon her confusion and irritation to empower her, Kaori pushed the Necromancer's fist aside and skipped backwards, out of the crater her feet had dug in the ground, dropping into a much more wary guard position than she normally adopted in a fight. An Undead Saint, from a religious tradition outside of the Abrahamics. Her mind was awhirl with the implications, and none of them were good. This was a threat far, far beyond that of a simple Necromancer! She narrowed her eyes, and a small, chilly smile crept across her face. On the other hand though, it also simplified matters. As a Saint she felt a duty to restrain herself when fighting non-Saints, because she could kill and injure them severely far too easily. But against another Saint, she was not so restricted... she knew how tough she herself was after all, and that meant she didn't have to hold back. Actually killing a Saint was very difficult indeed, they were truly vulnerable only to a few forms of attack with religious significance. Overwhelming physical or magical force could still break them of course, but she had not felt such strength from this foe.

Indeed, being Undead actually might not be entirely beneficial for a Saint's strength, she considered. The power of a Saint was bound up in their physical body and its similarity to the Divine ideal after all. She didn't know that much about Hades or Pluto, but she did know that despite being the Lord of the Underworld, he was supposed to be a living being. An Undead Saint would be less like their Divine ideal, not more like it. What they might gain in losing some of their physical limits such as endurance or ability to feel pain, they must doubtless lose when drifting further away from their Divine Ideal. "That's a good expression on your face, Saint." The Necromancer said, though his own face was of course as expressionless as it always was. "Come. Show me how the power of the Divine has manifested here in these latter days. Your forebears amongst the Apostles of the Mortal Angel were quite the challenge, back in the day. Can you give me that feeling again, I wonder?"

"You claim to have known the Apostles? To have fought them? I don't recall any mentions of such things in the Bible, not even the most secret and uncensored versions!" Kaori frowned at that idea. Not all the Apostles had been Saints, but some of them had been, and some of the most powerful and storied of all time too.

"They didn't look upon our encounters joyously after the fact, so I'm not surprised they tried to write them out of history after they believed they had destroyed me! Girl, I spat in the face of your Christ as he hung upon the crucifying pole. Metaphorically at least, I was well dead by then, and quite dried up. A "Mortal Angel", they called him? Rather heavy on the mortal side in my opinion. He died just like any other man, slow and hard and painfully. And I watched. Watching condemned criminals die on the cross was like a soap opera back then. I really cannot believe so much has been attributed to him since then. He never seemed that special to me. So self righteous. So arrogant. Claiming to suffer for the sins of all, pre-emptively! So presumptuous! Not at all like my divine Father, who barely deigned to take notice of the Mortals, until they crossed into his realm, when they all got exactly what they deserved based on how they lived... none of this forgiveness for the sins trash your Christ claims to love so much!" The Necromancer sneered, leaping at Kaori, slamming to the ground where she had stood, gouging out another crater as she dodged to the side.

Her blade left its sheathe once more, moving so fast the very air screamed as she sliced it apart rather than simply moving through it, but once more the magically enchnated cane intercepted her faster than blinking blow and knocked it aside. She luanched a dozen more blows in the time it would take a human to gasp a single syllable, and every one of them was blocked or parrying or deflected aside. This did not discourage her in the slightest. A fight of this level, was not ended within the first blow or two. She pushed herself more, slashing with one hand while calling upon the Nanasen with her other, giving the Necromancer threats from multiple angles to deal with. Threatening to entangle and bind with the wires, as the sword looped and slashed and cut. "So you say. Perhaps you simply weren't enough of a threat for them to worry about recording for posterity." Kaori countered with a smirk of her own. "His words about what he had done to Jesus Christ, if true, ignited a fire of righteous fury within her, and she used that to fuel her pressure upon him.

"Hah! I'm the reason there's only twelve apostles recorded in your scriptures, instead of the 15 he had originally! I broke three of his proto-saints before I realized that no matter how many I killed it would only build his legend of humility and humble strength! That's when I conspired with the local authorites to have him arrested and condemned as a criminal directly! And the fool simply let it happen! Is there anything in all the world as chokingly noble as a Saint determined to sacrifice themselves for the greater good? I wonder if his noble convictions comforted him while he baked and broiled in the desert heat upon that cross? Certainly I heard him scream in agony and regret more than once!" The Necromancer thrust forward suddenly, ramming the tip of his cane into Kaori's stomach, driving the breath from her body before following up with a backhand smash of his hand that connected with her cheek, knocking her halfway across the Cemetery before she got her feet back under her again.

However to do so he exposed himself to the Nanasen to do it, getting tangled up and wrapped by the wires just after he completed his second strike, and was still struggling free like a cockroach who'd walked into a spider web. Kaori launched herself at him, swinging her sword at the last moment, knocking his cane aside as he interposed it... she had in fact been targeting it, striking it extra hard, forcing his arm out wide as she skidded along the ground and slipped behind him, reversing her sword without sheathing it again and thrusting forward with all the the power of her legs and body, extending her arm, gripping the nodachi by the very end of the hilt to even further extend her range and thrusting power! She targeted high on his upper back, on the right side of his body, about level where his heart would be but on the opposite side of his body. On a living being it would be a very dangerous spot to strike, highly possible to be fatal, but her foe was not alive and so she could afford to strike for effectiveness and not mercy.

Shichiten Shichitou punctured the Necromancer's back, razor edge and needle tip sliding cleanly and easily through the false flesh, Kaori feeling the blade jar on bone as it punched entirely through the Necromancer's chest, scraping along his spine and ribcage and sternum, several feet of cold, hard magical steel protruding from the monster's chest, her sword hilt slamming into his back as she wrapped an arm around his throat and locked him up, wrapping more layers of Nanasen wires around his limbs to help hold him in place. Stabbing wounds worked best on Saints after all, as it was a stabbing wound that had killed Christ in the end, not the trial of the cruxcifiction. "I am Salvare000, the savior of the unsaveable." Kaori told the monster in her grip. "Whoever and whatever you are, abomination, this is your defeat! You should not have taken me so lightly..."

"Have I?" The Necromancer replied, sounding amused despite being trapped and impaled with a sword capable of slaying gods. "I think your unintentional experiential biases have betrayed you once again, Saint of Christ!" He jerked one hand free of the Nanasen wires, false flesh shredding away as his arm was flensed almost down to the bone by the sharpened wires, peeling off skin like a gigantic cheese greater. He grabbed the blade of Shichiten Shichitou where it protruded from his chest, but instead of trying to remove it, he seemed simply to be squeezing it, and Kaori felt magic of a type she was unfamiliar with begin to gather in that hand that gripped her sword. She didn't know what he was doing, but sensed a threat to her blade. Yanking on her sword hilt, Kaori was distraught to realize it seemed to be stuck inside him, the metal shivering and shaking and keening as she tried to pull it free from his grasp and the interior of his body cavity. Swords were not designed to be held by the blade though, and slowly, with the tooth jarring shriek of metal on metal, it began to pull free of the Necromancer, a couple inches at a time. His strength was unbelievable! A Saint wounded in the manner of one of the Stigmata of Christ should experience greatly weaked physical and magical power, but he didn't seem...

 _Oh Shit..._ Kaori allowed a rare curse to escape, even if only within the safety of her mind. He was right. She'd been thinking of him as a Saint again, one of her peers or rivals, on instinct. That was what she was schooled to think upon encountering someone who could stand up to her physically like this. But he was not a Saint, he was a Demigod. The weaknesses of a Saint regarding Christ's stigmata did not apply to him. Everying Kaori had ever learned or been taught about fighting Saint class opponents or protecting herself was, well, focused around Saints and their weaknesses. Because Saint's were all that existed on that level. Or so everyone believed. Doubtless there would be weaknesses a Demigod possessed related to their own Divine connection, but she had no idea what they might be. She pulled frantically on her blade, not knowing what the foe was doing, besides that he was definitely trying to break her main weapon! Finally, with an effort that left her sweating and shaking a little, Kaori managed to rip her sword free, tearing a massive wound in the Necromancer's back and side in the process, staggering backwards several steps in recoil.

The wound would have been fatal to any living being, emptying the majority of their body cavity onto the ground, slicing through major organs in the process, causing massive bleeding and shock. Neither blood nor organs escaped from this wound though, the false flesh simply gaped, the shredded arm likewise filled with holes and wounds that revealed an oddly metallic underlayer beneath the false flesh. Some sort of inner armor layer perhaps? It had not seemed particularly effective if so. A soft metal, with dull lustre. Lead perhaps? But why would the Necromancer line the inside of his false fleshguise with lead? There were mystical properties to lead of course, which aided in protecting against scrying for instance, but it was such a heavy metal, even a Saint class being wearing that much of it would find it inconvenient surely? Kaori glance aside at her blade, frowning in displeasure when she saw the place that had been gripped by the Necromancer was discolored and looked rusted somehow, as if it had experienced years of neglect in such a short span of seconds.

A sudden wave of dizziness and nausea out of nowhere assailed Kaori, causing her to stagger in place, bringin her sword up in front of her on guard again, and take another few steps back. She held her breath, fearing poison gas or suffocating fumes of some sort, but couldn't see any, and holding her breath did not seem to help any. Brushing off the remaining Nanasen wires, which Kaori found she was having trouble controlling suddenly, her fingers feeling weak and disoriented, the Necromancer turned to regard her once more. _What is happening to me? Is this magic? A curse? I don't feel any mana use..._ Kaori thought frantically, as her sense of dizziness and sickness grew by the moment. Her vision began to blur, and she felt hot and uncomfortable, like standing too close to a heat lamp, all over her body. She even felt her bowels start to feel loose for some reason. "What... w-what are... you doing... to me..." She queryed, stunned at how weak her voice sounded after less than half a minute had passed since she tore her sword free. He wasn't even doing anything, just standing there with a huge sliced open hole in his fleshguise... why was SHE getting weaker?

"I must congratulate you. You are the first one to pierce my containment shroud since I had it made." The Necromancer stepped forward with malice radiating from him, raising his cane in one hand, flipping it around so that he held it by the base, brandishing the end with Christ on the Cross as the warhead. "Sadly, it appears that you will succumb soon enough to the consequences of doing so, child."

"S-s-stay a-away f-from m-me!" Kaori stumbled, sword wavering in her hand. The urge to vomit rose up inside her, and it was all she could do to force it back down. Just holding up her sword was taking all she felt like she could muster.

"It's too late. You have already been exposed to the aura of death, destroyer of worlds. You are contaminated already. A normal human would be dead in moments, though it might take them a while to attain the bliss of oblivion. I wonder how long you can last, Saint of Christ?" The Necromancer swung his cane with casual force, striking Kaori across the face, spattering the image of Christ with her blood, chips of teeth flying as she was bowled over in a heap, Shichiten Shichitou flying from her fingers as blood poured copiously from her cheek and lips. It wasn't clotting like it normally would. Dazed, feeling as weak as a baby, arms and legs trembling with effort, Kaori vomited, emptying her body of its last meal... thickly mixed with blood. Something was very, VERY wrong with her body, but she didn't know what it could be! She hadn't taken any hard blows, no punctures from envenomed needles, and she was immune to disease and viruses, no matter how potent. And though she strained with all her might and training, she could not detect a single bit of magic in use upon her! Her spells of magical resistance did nothing! As did attempts to cast healing spells... her body was just breaking apart, refusing to hold together properly...

xxxx

 **Elsewhere in the Cemetery**

 **"DAMN YOU MORTAL FLEA, WHY WON'T YOU DIE!?"** Marchosias bellowed in a voice to shake the ground and crack the heavens, as he pulled himself up from the latest crater in the ground he had been punched into by the Esper boy. _Why won't HE die? We're the ones getting our asses kicked, Demon, in case you haven't been paying attention!_ Sven growled from deep within their combined soul. _**QUIET, HOST! ONCE I FIGURE OUT HOW HIS POWER WORKS, I WILL TAKE CARE OF HIM HANDILY ENOUGH!**_ Marchosias snapped back irritably, flames spewing from his mouth and nostril as raining down his body like spittle from his jaws as he shook himself out, bones and muscles repairing themselves for what felt like the hundredth time that day, new fangs pushing themselves bloodily through his gums to replace the shattered stumps already there. _I'm not sure HE knows how his power works. So far it mostly seems to do absolutely whatever the fuck he wants it to do, no matter how crazy and nonsensical that may be!_ Sven complained back.

"I can only admire your guts of preserverance, villain. You just keep getting back up again. I respect that. What do you say, will you cast aside your evil ways and join me as an ally of justice? I feel like we could do great things together to help people! Think of all the songs you could sing of our adventures together!" The cause of Sven-Marchosias's disgruntlement alighted upon the ground nearby, landing from on high, wher ehe had leaped hundreds of meters into the air to volleyball spike the Possessed Blood Knight down into the ground just a few moments before, after uppercutting him into the sky to begin with. With his clothing ruffled and mussed and singed, the Esper boy nonetheless seemed barely even to be breathing hard or working up a sweat, and aside from a few smears of dirt on his knuckles, his body was distressingly injury free. Not that Marchosias had never touched him, as he had landed blows and even bitten the bastard with his viper tail, a single drop of whose venom could kill a thousand tough men in seconds. But whatever "Guts" power this Esper had, seemingly granted him incredible constitution and powers of recuperation, even regeneration, and all the wounds disappeared in a matter of seconds, even the poison flowing back out of the bite wound.

 **"I AM A DEMON LORD, A DUKE OF HELL! I WILL NEVER BE AN ALLY OF JUSTICE! INJUSTICE FLOWS IN MY VERY BLOOD, IT IS PART OF WHO I AM! AND FOR THE LAST TIME, I AM NOT A SINGER!"** Marchosias screamed, breathing out more hellfire from his mouth to douse the annoying boy in heat sufficient to reduce a main battle tank to a bubbling puddle on the ground. He might as well have been blasting him with deodorant spray, for all the effect it had, but he was rapidly running out of ideas on what to do versus this opponent. Physical damage, the fires of hell, poison, none of his usual attacks were having any effect!

"That is just your background! I am sure you can overcome it with enough GUTS!" The boy announced cheerfully, striding from the flames like he was wading out of a kiddie pool. He cocked back his fist with a wild grin. "Amazing..."

 **"NO! NOT THAT AGAIN!"** Marchosias pounced at the Esper, claws gleaming on the ends of his paws as he tried to rip the boy's head from his shoudlers and eviscerate him in the process. Beofre he could get there though, the boy completed his attack preparation animation.

"... Ultra Punch Combo of Justice!" Attack Crash yelled compeltely unselfconsciously as blue and red smoke burst around him, extending from his back in the shape of angelic wings surroudned by stars and meteors for a moment. The next instant and Marchosias was flying away, backwards, his gut aching from a half dozen punches delivering in the space of a millisecond, each bursting with the undefinable energy field that powered Attack Crash! Spittle and dark ichor flew from his muzzle as he plowed anouther trench along the ground, his wings snapping under his bulk, shedding blood and feathers for dozen sof meters along the ground as he tumbled out of control until he struck a large enough and solid enough object to brign his flight to a halt. In this case it was part of the destroyed morgue, which then collapsed on top of him, half burying the Demon in the rubble. He could and would regenerate, his wings already straightening out and regrowing feathers, but this pattern of combat was getting very tiresome indeed!

Hands that gripped with the power of industrial vices grabbed Marchosias by his limp viper tail wher eit was protruding from the rubble, yanking him out from under the collapsed building and swinging him around in a wide arc. " **GARRAGAGARAG ARGAGAHHGHH?!"** He screamed as he was swung around like the rotor of a helicoptor, his tail threatening to rip free of his backside as the Esper spun around and around and around. Finally the Esper let go, hurling the snarling, kicking, flailing Demon Lord like a superhuman olympic hammer throw event, sending him sailing on a slowly rising arc up into the sky. Attack Crash met him at the apex of his arc, launching an upside down spinning backflip kick that smashed Marchosias straight down into the ground once more, digging out another crater and shaking the surrounding area with the force of impact! Dirt and soil and chunks of rock plumed into the air like the blast from an artillery shell, as Attack Crash allowed himself to fall to the ground and advance to the edge of the fresh crater.

"Still conscious! Such GUTS!" The Esper announced, shaking his head in admiration as he looked down at the feebly twitching wolf-snake-bird guy, who was splayed out on his front, looking a little squashed, indented into the ground at the bottom of the crater. He paused, hearing the sound of wood striking flesh, looking up and over to take in the other fight going on in the area. Somewhat to his shock, he saw the older girl, whom he had assessed to be at least as strong as he himself was, potentially even moreso, actually on the defensive, kneeling and scrabbling on the ground, as the creepy old man beat her about the head and shoulders and upper body with his cane mercilessly. Blood sprayed, and he could hear bones cracking and breaking from a hundred meters away, and the Esper frowned heavily. Whatever the reason for this upset, he was not going to stand idly by and allow the woman to be beaten while she was at a disadvantage!

"You there! Cease that at once! Beating an opponent who is already down is the height of gutlessness!" Attack Crash yelled in outrage, taking a step forward in preparation for launching himself over to intervene. Before he could though, vast, hairy, foul smelling arms wrapped around him from behind, as the wolf-snake-bird guy tackled him, smashing him down into the ground, howling incoherently, drooling spittle that sizzled and tingled most unpleasantly on the boy's skin as he tried to bite the Esper's head off his shoulders. Gunha managed to get a hand shoved into that voracious maw, before it could nibble at his ears and nose and throat, grimacing as fangs bit into the flesh of his arm, grinding against the bones of the forearm. It took guts to get up again after the beating this thing had been taking from him, but right now those were rotten guts, preventing him from saving a helpless woman from a vicious bullying and beating!

"AMAZING HEROIC RESURGENCE! GUTS GRANT ME STRENGTH!" Gunha shouted with all the power in his lungs, lifting the heavy demon-thing on his back and bursting out of its grip, tearing his arm open almost to to the bone as he ripped it free of the thing's mouth, but though it hurt, he knew it would heal soon enough. He had guts enough for that. Knocking his sparring partner aside, hurling him into the near distance with a shrug of his shoulders, he turned back towards the other villain, who was standing over the woman know, as she lay seemingly unconscious on her back. Gunha hurled himself recklessly forward, fist cocked back as he did what any good hero ought to do, and save the girl! "AMAZING..." He began, charging himself up as the old man looked up, somehow seeing him coming, despite moving at well over twice the speed of sound. The old man held out one hand, making some sort of weird gestures that Gunha could not interpret. Suddenly, the old man and the unconscious girl vanished, just before Gunha's punch arrived...

xxxx

Izarde studied the boy in front of him, who was frozen within the field effect of the chronal stasis spell that he had quickly incanted when he saw the boy knock aside Marchosias and come after him instead. Well, stasis wasn't exactly true. That would imply that he had stopped time, and that was beyond his power. He had just slowed it down greatly within that particular area, so that for every fraction of a second that passed within the area, tens of minutes would pass in the rest of the world. Though the boy appeared vulnerable, frozen in place and helpless, that was far from the case. Any attack against him would pass through the chronal field perimeter and instantly adjust timescales, so attacking him was just as difficult as before. This was a delaying tactic, no more. It was an impressive feat to knock aside and largely beat a Possessed Blood Knight in full Demonic Possession. But such was the power of a Level 5, or so he had come to realize. Or at least this particular one, whow as particualrly well suited for fighting a foe like Marchosias-Sven.

Said Demon Lord fragment came flapping down from the skies behind Izarde a moment later, immediately dropping to his knees in contrition at failing the charge Izarde had given them. Marchosias was a dread and powerful Demon Lord, but Izarde treated with Demons far more powerful and terrible yet, and Marchosias knew better than to give him attitude. It was Izarde who had fragmented and bound a sliver of Marchosias's true self into Sven in the first place after all. The Dmeon could clearly see the effects of Izarde's spell, and so avoided it, despite the obvious and nearly overwhelming urge to attack his nemesis once more. **"Apolo** gies, Lord." Marchosias's voice began transitioning back into Sven's as the Demonic Possession began to reverse itself. "I have failed you..." Sven said, head bowed, body battered and trembling with the aftermath of Possession. Izarde immediately cast a spell of bounded space around his ruptured containment sheath, cutting the truth of himself off from the environment and from Sven, now exposed to him without Marchosias's presence. It would not hold for long, but it would be long enough.

"You performed as I expected, if not as I might have wished. Keeping the Esper boy busy was enough to allow me to have my fun uninterrupted by his inanity. Doing so by getting your ass handed to you all over the battlefield is not the method that most befits the pride of a Blood Knight of the Macabre Court, but it was still effective all the same." Izarde wiped the bloodied headpiece of his cane off with a handkerchief, and then wrung the blood from the handkerchief off into a small vial for preservation. Saint's Blood was a powerful alchemical reagent after all, and blood could be used for a variety of spells in the future as well.

"Are we going to kill her, Master?" Sven asked, swaying drunkenly as he forced himself to his feet. He was shivering, almost nude in the chill night arm, body wrong dry of energy, almost emaciated by the stresses of Possession, even for such a relatively short period of time. He looked down on the Saint lying bloodied, bruised and unconscious on the ground at their feet, her sword lying in the dirt beside her, wires splayed out carelessly in a half formed magical circle. She was breathing, if shallowly with much coughing, from several broken ribs as well as the bruising and fractures in her neck and jaw and skull and collarbone. Sven scowled in revulsion, the Demon within him reacting instinctively to one imbued with such a holy divine background. "Or are we taking her with us for torture and interrogation?"

"Leave her be, faithful Sven. Perhaps she will die on her own. Perhaps not. Either way, this phase of the game is drawing to a close, and my statements have been clearly made. We are returning to headquarters. My fleshguise is breached, and I require containment before I end up killing you and anyone else who gets close to me." Izarde replied with a shrug.

"Master, forgive my impertinence, but is it not arrogant to be so careless with a foe such as her? She is a Saint. She is a threat to us! She even fought with you, my Lord, and though she was defeated, it was because of your unexpected qualities, not your strength, my Lord! Is it not foolish hubris to allow such a potential future threat to survive when she is helpless before us now?" Sven asked with a frown.

"Ordinarily yes, Sven. It warms my heart to see you have paid attention. Or would if it wasn't dust long ago. But I am not allowing her the chance to live despite her being a threat to me. I am allowing her to life BECAUSE she could be a threat to me. And if she's that dangerous, she will serve well as a potential pawn in the future, a stumbling block placed in the path of others who might wish me harm." Izarde answered with amusement.

"Forgive me, Great One, but I still feel it is riskier than we need to incur! Drawing too much attention to ourselves will..."

"It will drown this city in Chaos, faithful Sven. Perhaps some of our foes will ally with each other, yes. If she lives past tonight, we will see this Saint again, and she may well cause complications for our plans in the future. Certainly she will be better prepared and better informed for our next encounter. But I have not shown her every trump card I possess. Sometimes a partially informed enemy is even easier to manipulate than an uniformed one is. And the news she bears to others will send shockwaves through the Magical world. They will investigate in much greater force from now on. And if there's one thing I know Aleister doesn't want too much of, its a lot of very curious, very powerful magicians poking around in this City of his. Not at this stage of his plans. Chaos will ensue." Izarde stated with a verbal smile. "Now let us go. That spell won't hold that Esper forever, and with his power, he might even break out early through sheer guts..."


	16. Healers and Heroes

**Author Note:**

Well here we are, starting the 3rd Arc of the story, which I tenatively call "Calibration and Retuning" arc, though the chapter titles will be themed a slightly different way. But after the events of the first two story Arcs, now all the sides need to sit back and adjust how they view the world, the City and the actors at play within it, formulating their plans for moving forward towards whatever goals they might have. There will be somewhat less in the way of combat and action in these next 6 chapters, or at least no major chapter long battles like what we just had. It's not yet time in the story for entire arcs devoted to battles and conflict. Setup, foreshadowing and preparation is required before we get there. Anyway, thanks for reading this far, and for reviewing if you have, and if you haven't, perhaps for dropping a review at some point. My goal for all my stories is to get about 1 review for every 1000 words in the Story, though few of them achieve it.

RPGPersona: Your perspective on reviews matches mine, so please keep up the good work in the future.

321jaz: I appreciate the review of course, but if I might offer a small "review of the review", I have to say that while a statement of encouragement is better than nothing, it is just only slightly better. I assure you, I do want to know what you think, even if it is the exact same, word for word, as what someone else said. I don't mind reading it twice, really. Though since RPGpersona's reviews are as much stream of consciousness experiences of his time reading that chapter, as reviews, I'm sure it wouldn't be exactly the same. Think about it like voting in politics. Just because you feel the same about a politician as many other people do, does that mean you should not vote for them anyway? So it is with fanfic writers and the reviews they crave... each is a vote, propelling us to further heights of power and responsibility as we continue our stories. If you can't think of anything to criticize or compliment, simply narrating your thoughts as you read the chapter, works just fine. It is of course greedy of me to encourage you not only to review but to substantially review... I guess I am more like a politician than I thought.

I have not read the Index Light Novels. My knowledge comes entirely from the Animes of Index and Railgun, and the Railgun Manga. At some point I will read the Light Novels, but all readers should bear in mind that for the most part, anything considered a canon event from the LNs that does not appear in the Manga or Animes, is not in my head-canon and probably won't show up in the story, or if it does, will do so as and if I become aware of it, in the way I feel best fits into this version of the setting I am creating.

xxxx

 **Academy City, A Certain Hospital, Intensive Care Ward, October 4th, 2:23 AM**

A hospital never slept, not entirely, maitaining a constant humm of activity even during the middle of the night or early morning, as doctors and nurses checked patients, updated administrative notes, conducted inventory and preparation for the next day's expected operations, and conducted classes to medical students and interns, sometimes with the aid of patients, sometimes on models and mannequins. Even with the general admittance area powered down with the lights off, the Emergency Room always stayed lit and staffed, because Emergencies knew no schedule, happening whenever they pleased, and never at convenient times... hence why they were called "Emergencies". Though Academy City was not one of the largest cities on the planet by any estimation, and was well served by an entire network of specialty hospitals and medical research facilities, the unique nature of its population meant that the hospitals often saw a good bit of business even on otherwise quiet days. And the recent weeks had been far from quiet ones by the estimation of one particular doctor.

In the humble office tucked away near the ICU of the Hospital, where he could be within a short jog of seconds of any of the most severely injured patients that might need his special touch, the man known to the vast majority of the world as Heaven Canceller, leaned back in his chair with his feet up on the desk, perusing a stack of preliminary reports from one of his more recent patients. He held the documents at arms length, his widely spaced eyes making it a trifle difficult to read things at closer ranges, though they gave him excellent peripheral vision. He had specialty corrective vision lenses that removed the problem, and had such optics built into all his surgical goggles, but did not like wearing them casually... they made him look even more like a bug-eyed frog-man than usual while wearing them. And while he had long, long ago decided that he would never let anyone's opinion of how he looked bother him, he still retained some fragments of a desire for dignity, now and then. His appearance did have advantages when dealing with young children... and a particular group of clones based off a girl who found frogs to be the most adorable things ever, who were, in many ways, very young children despite how they appeared.

He smiled with brief fondness... of all the many things about his chosen vocation in life that he enjoyed, bringing health and happiness back to the young and unlucky was perhaps his greatest pleasure. He was careful at all times to maintain the position of doctor, not parent, to his many young patients, hiding his sometimes parental level of concern behind his casually worded doctor's advice. He could not control them, and did not wish to try. Even the ones who had set themselves onto difficult and painful paths in life, either willingly or through the consequences of their actions, he did not intervene other than with casual advice and light hearted chiding. Sometimes he wished to do more. But some problems in life simply could not be fixed through outside intervention. Not even the best doctor in the world, which he probably was for a variety of reasons, could heal the injuries to the self that many youth inflicted upon themselves or had inflicted upon them. That was the sort of healing that could only come from within, and would only be held back by attempts at outside intervention.

So Heaven Canceller contented himself with healing their physical trauma, and doing his best to passively support them emotionally, with occasional snippets of sage advice, and the comfort of knowing that whatever trouble they might get into, as long as they made it back to him alive, even if only in the most technical sense, he could and would restore them to health. Most people avoided trouble, hospitals and doctors as much as possible... few people enjoyed being injured, and no one enjoyed being injured in the ways he was often called on to help heal. And as a doctor he could not usually in good conscience encourage people to take stupid risks that might cause them to become injured, simply because he could fix them. Some people though just couldn't stay out of trouble... he thought of a certain spiky haired boy with black hair, and a near albino boy with a nasty exterior attitude and a wounded heart as particular examples... no matter what, so for them he gave the comfort of knowing that he could fix them, physically at least, even if he could not fix their troubles.

Of course, as Accelerator knew, there were physical injuries even Heaven Canceller could not completely negate, such as severe brain damage like from being shot in the head at point blank range. He'd prevented the boy from being turned into a bed bound vegetable, and had even engineered a workaround with the transceiver electrode attuned to the Sister's Network, but full restoration of the brain Accelerator had had before that incident was a miracle beyond even Heaven Canceller, with all the power of science at his fingertips. Sometimes he wondered, when faced with such cases, whether if he had ever learned how to apply the methodology of the Magic side, if he would have been able to heal even such trauma's as that without even leaving a scar? A moot point though... he was both morally and biologically opposed to the use of Magic for healing.

Morally because he felt that bending the laws of reality in order to make something that had happened, as if it had not happened, no matter how impossible that reversal ought to be, was a dangerous habit to get into. Though it might be used only to benefit the needy at first, the sheer power of such an ability would, in his experience, lead inevitably to the user wanting to fix other problems rather than severe bodily trauma the same way. Slowly progressing to larger and larger "problems" until they altering the natural course of life for hundreds, thousands or even millions of people, with lasting and far reaching unintended consequences, especially when they tried to solve a problem that was only a problem from their personal perspective. And that only if they were true paragons of virtue who never used their power for their own pleasure or advancement... and even he himself wasn't that much of a saint. Even the literal Saints themselves, weren't that much of a saint, in his experience. There were perhaps people in the world that truly selfless... he was fairly sure one of them was his most frequent patient... but they were easily the rarest commodity on the planet.

And biologically because Heaven Canceller was a Gemstone, and trying to use magic would be very painful and potentially even self destructive. He knew of at least one other person who had an ability somewhat similar to his, who took advantage of it in extremis to use Magic, but he couldn't say he recommended doing so. That brave young man who lived in the shadows was risking his life every time he did so. But it was his life to risk, and he knew that, and Heaven Canceller respected that. Speaking of himself though, while his own ability... he had once called it "Heal Thyself" in a fit of self mockery when he was much younger, referring to the sarcastic retort "physician, heal thyself" as a means of rebutting someone who was being a hypocrite with their advice... could restore physical injures he suffered, similar to Auto-Regeneration, it was not nearly as limited as that either. He'd never had his power measured, not that such was easy for a Gemstone anyway, and he wasn't logged in the City databases... he was uninterested in such things and did not desire fame, despite his somewhat pretentious nickname.

His body healed itself, including of many of the usual ravages of old age that would otherwise afflict him, such as joint pain, reduced manual dexterity, frailty of health, weakness of bones, and any of a slew of mental issues like dementia or alzheimers. He ought to be riddled with cancers from head to toe, simply by virtue of how much time he'd spent out exposed to relentless sun and other sources of radiation during his life. And his skin ought to be more scar tissue than skin, even though it had been many long years since he last visited the front lines of a battlefield. But not only could he heal himself, by directly touching someone else, or with very close physical proximity, within a few millimeters, he could use his power to influence them as well, allowing him to make seemingly miraculous surgeries requiring a deftness of touch beyond any current medical instrument, not just possible but reliable. Unfortunately his power aura did not share his power at full strength, thus it was incapable of assisting in the repair of brain tissue, unlike in himself. He could repair the blood vessels in the brain, and even knit together the physical matter of the brain organ once more, but he could not restore the neural pathways within it that had been damaged or lost.

As a result of his power he was one of the two oldest living men in the world as far as he knew, at least discounting the use of Magic to cheat mortality in various ways. And it was an application of his power... one of the few ever instances of successfully replicating a non-physically destructive Esper type power in a technological format... that was keeping the other long lived man he knew alive as well. But the side effects of that particular life extension treatment were so bad... being trapped inside the restorative liquid of the rejuvenation module permanently because of a completely compromised immune system being just one of them... that after completing the one prototype all those years ago, Heaven Canceller had destroyed the research and vowed never again to meddle in that particular branch of medicine. It was entirely too close to the way Magic operated in his opinion. He would not pull the plug on the patient in the prototype, as that would be an act of murder at this point, and he had long sworn to do no harm. But he would not allow it to be commercialized or replicated. His guilt was strong enough already without allowing such an abomination into the world at large.

Heaven Canceller looked like a man in his sixties, balding, a trifle liver spotted, but otherwise vigorous and healthy. Given that he looked less than half as old as he actually was, that was pretty good. He figured he had at least another sixty or so years in him, before he would really start slowing down and showing his age... and maybe another century past that before even his power couldn't stave off the effects of time enough to keep him alive. That would be more than enough lifetime for him, actually. More than he'd ever wanted or asked for. Though now he just hoped it would be long enough to see the end of this grand experiment that he had started all those years ago in the wake of the Second World War, when he'd still been a young man, full of fire and high ideals and the naive belief that he could maintain control over his dreams no matter how grand they became.

It was after all one of the best kept secrets in the world, known only to him and the other long lived man, that it had not been the man known as Aleister Crowley to come up with the idea of Academy City in the first place. That had been Heaven Canceller. He had conceptualized a place where research could be conducted on "talented" people like himself, so as to one day replicate their abilities in a wider portion of the populace, in order to enhance the greater good of all mankind! He was a doctor who could save any life, no matter how tenuous, through his power and skill. But he was just one man, and could only save one person at a time, often taking hours to do so. Across his lifespan he had saved hundreds of thousands of gravely injured people, perhaps even millions. Hundreds of millions who could have used his help, but that he had either never known of or not been around for, had died in the same span. He had more blood spilled on and by his hands than any twenty mass murders in human history, and had seen more horror and trauma than any human ought to survive. Two world wars as a front line medic and surgeon, each worse than the last. Almost a dozen lesser wars, some of them conflicts of genocide where mercy was a concept unknown to either side. The time between spent struggling with the horrific bodily stresses placed upon many of the early Esper candidates while the Power Development program was still being figured out. And being a regular doctor and surgeon on top of that.

It was only after meeting Aleister, and saving his life, that Heaven Canceller had met someone he felt like was a kindred spirit devoted to making the world a better place, the partner to handle the day to day affairs of the project while Heaven Canceller focused on his duties as a doctor, and together they had set off to Japan, taking advantage of the post-war reconstruction to get the land and funding needed for their grand project. Those early years in the 50's and part of the 60's had been amongst the most fulfilling of his life. Real progress was made in leaps and bounds, despite occasional terrible setbacks, as scientifically reproducible Espers became first a definitely possibility, then a hard theory, then a cautious prototype, and eventually a mass producible treatment! That treatment would never pass any government safety regulations inspection in the world of course... not only were its potential side effects dangerous and unhealthy, but it's end result was entirely unique to each person... but with Academy City's autonomous nature that wasn't a problem. Perhaps though, that particular "necessary compromise" on his oath to do no harm, should have been a clue of what was coming, he reflected with a bit of bitterness.

It had taken many decades, but eventually Heaven Canceller had come to realize that while he and Aleister may have shared a dream, of creating Academy City to do research on Espers for the betterment of mankind, their methodologies and end goals were very different. Heaven Canceller wanted to reproduce Gemstone powers in order to create a sort of superpowered international rescue and aid organization, improving the quality of life of people in the world itself. Aleister instead grew focused on the theory of SYSTEM, the idea that an Esper with sufficient power could gain knowledge beyond human understanding, the power of God, or even something greater than that, and then use that to fix all the problems and inequalities in the world at once, rather than gradually over time. And while Heaven Canceller was fine with taking time to perfect the Esper Power process for maximum safety and effectiveness, he had never intended for Academy City to cut itself off from the rest of the world, hoarding its technology and Espers... he had wanted Academy City to lead the world, offering a helping hand to all those who needed it, as soon as viable and stable Espers started to be produced.

Aleister on the other hand seemed not to care about the suffering in the world that went on and even became worse even though Academy City had the power to help out. He didn't even seem to care about the suffering caused within the City's own research programs, as long as they resulted in progress towards SYSTEM. He seemed to have grown enamored of the methods espoused by those known as the Kihara's, a multigenerational family/affiliated clan of brilliant scientists and researchers with questionable morals at best in most cases. The original Kihara's had been recruited right out the ranks of some of the Japanese military's Biological and Chemical weapons research divisions, which had been perpetrators of atrocities every bit the equal of the Nazi's, perhaps even worse. Heaven Canceller had objected at the time, as he considered such men to be part of what was wrong with the world, and scum to boot, but been argued around by Aleister, pointing out that they would be closely watched and reformed, and that if Academy City didn't grab them up, someone else like the Soviets or the Americans would, as they were doing with Nazi rocket and jet propulsion experts for instance.

He should have stuck by his guns, but by the time he realized just how powerful, influential and invidious the Kihara's had become in Academy City, it was the 80's, and it was too late by then for him to do more than offer token resistance. Though he was one of the two founders of the City, he had given Aleister total administrative control over the City and the wider project, because Aleister was good at managing details and maintaining progress towards their goal, while Heaven Canceller was just a great doctor with a wild dream and a special ability. He could handle administrative details, all Doctors had to deal with that every day. But he hated it, and that was just within his own hospital... doing it for the City as a whole gave him nightmares... he'd never get any doctoring done if he took on such a role! And doctoring had always been his passion, his reason for living. He could not give it up, not when he could make a difference with his skill and his power. In retrospect, he should have swallowed his pride and selfish desires and buckled down to doing something he hated for the greater good. Perhaps then, Academy City would still be the noble ideal he'd first visualized. Perhaps then, he would have had the power to prevent the horrors that infested the underbelly of the city like plague parasites.

But he hadn't, and he had no such power. He still had total access to all research within the City, and could travel as he wished within it, and even out of it if he wanted. Though he wondered sometimes if he ever did leave, whether he would meet up with some sort of "accident", or would be allowed to return at all. Relations with Aleister had grown tense to say the least, after all, as Heaven Canceller tried to be a moral conscience for the man, and found his efforts largely unwelcome and ignored. Within the City he was untouchable though... too many people knew of him and owed him favors, for anyone, Dark Side or not, to even consider taking action against him. His general policy of non-intervention and of providing aid to all sides of a conflict equally helped with that too. But while that guaranteed his personal safety, it did little for everyone else in the City, especially the young and unwittingly vulnerable Espers that the City depended upon and also mercilessly exploited. Left with no concrete power and only what prestige his nickname garnered him, Heaven Canceller used whatever he could, without violating his oaths any further, to resist the Darkness, and change the city for the better. There were small successes... keeping the Sisters out of the Dark side's clutches once the Level 6 Shift was annulled was one... but he had to admit, this personal and private war of his, was not one he was winning. But that did not mean he would give up!

And part of not giving up was not neglecting his duties as a Doctor, even if they technically distracted him from his attempts to fix what was wrong with the City as a whole. By this point in his life, he didn't think he could stop being a Doctor even if he wished to, it was just ingrained as part of him. Returning from his reminiscence, Heaven Canceller once more looked over the documents in his hands. The patient was an unusual one, for the City and him personally. Brought in by one of the City's most famous, or infamous, figures, Sogiita Gunha, the number 7 level 5 and only level 5 Gemstone, the young adult woman was one Heaven Canceller was distantly familiar with. She'd come to visit the troublesome Kamijou boy on a couple of occasions while he was recovering from various injuries, and he knew what she was, which was all the more reason to be surprised to have her as a patient. There was relatively little in this world that could cause serious bodily harm to a Saint after all, and even if one did, they were usually more than capable of treating themselves, either naturally through their incredible bodies, or through the use of Magic. In all his life until tonight, he'd never performed more than minor first aid on a Saint, even when he should have had them in a surgical theater, they just recovered on their own with a few bandages and some time.

Tonight was a special case though, and it troubled him quite a lot, because it seemed to be tying in to the terrorist attack last week. The perpetrators of that attack had been captured for the most part, but all of them had died while in custody. He'd accessed the medical reports, suspicious of a cover up... it was not the worst thing he'd have ever seen the Dark Side do, not by a long shot... but as far as the medical reports from the other hospitals showed, the cause of death in each case had been entirely natural. Assuming you called being exposed to enough radioactivity that by rights they should all have been glowing bright enough to see with the naked eye, as "natural". In such extreme cases of radiation poisoning, there was little even his own talents could do for them... their cellular and DNA structure was so ravaged that they more or less melted apart from the inside out in a matter of hours. They had been so irradiated that they had even radioactively contaminated the sheets and scrubs and rooms they were kept in, to the point where it was dangerous for unshielded humans to enter or handle them until extensive decontamination procedures had been enacted.

And the Saint, Ms. Kanzaki, had been dosed with if anything an even higher level of radioactive exposure than those poor men had! He'd never seen anyone exposed as badly as she was... she could hardly have gotten a bigger dose if she'd decided to do some nude sunbathing in the heart of an active reactor! She should have been a mess of skin burns and oozing sores, with ruined eyes and compromised organs, bleeding from every orifice and mucus membrane, delirious and violently nauseous as she slowly degenerated and died over the course of a day or two from massive internal hemorrhaging and organ failure. Instead she looked like she had a mild case of sunburn, and her wounds weren't fixing themselves on their own like they should have, or at least not very quickly. He'd given her the strongest sedative he could, hoping it would knock her out long enough for the radiation flush procedures... basically massive amounts of liquid hydration mixed with iodine salts... to get most of the short term radioactives out of her system. It was a very messy procedure, and undignified and uncomfortable in the extreme, as bodily flushing procedures generally were, as harmful waste products needed to be eliminated by all the usual methods on a regular basis. From there hopefully her system would recover enough to heal her other injuries, mostly bone fractures and skin punctures to the head and upper body, on its own.

Gunha had been exposed as well, partly by carrying Kanzaki to the hospital, and partly by exposure to an irradiated environment of some sort. His exposure was much less though, from being largely secondhand, and with enough resounding cries of "Guts!"... preferably in a district far removed from the hospital to avoid disturbing other patients... Heaven Canceller knew the number 7 would be fine. He, like everyone else, did not know how Gunha's power worked. Though as a fellow Gemstone, Heaven Canceller at least understood what it was like to instinctively use a power without need for calculations, to rely on it to simply function as and when you needed it. He quite liked Gunha really... he could almost see parts of himself in the boy, that idealism and the naive exuberance, the desire to do as much as good as possible with his unique power. The boy was a bit of a bull in a china shop, crashing around and causing a lot of unintentional destruction through that youthful eagerness, but at least he always seemed to limit his collateral damage to inanimate objects rather than people. Gunha had been light on the details of whatever encounter he and Kanzaki had been in... something about a giant fire breathing wolf-snake-bird monster and the like... saying merely that Kanzaki had lost a fight, which given her condition was obvious.

In truth, Heaven Canceller liked all the Level 5's... such talented prodigies of the program being some of the people he took time out of being a doctor to watch over, or at least observe with interest. They were the greatest fruits of his grand dream after all, and their powers and the potential for the good they could do in the world, staggered him whenever he thought about it. Alas, many of them were treading dark and difficult paths, either through choice or necessity, and even the ones who tried to live in the Light, like Gunha and Misaka Mikoto, and to a degree, Shokuhou Misaki, were often pulled into the Darkness by virtue of their power and its implications and possible uses. Heaven Canceller put down the reports on Kanzaki and reached out for his office phone, pressing a key that activated a secure scrambling device as he dialed a number only he knew, a special private line directly to the Superintendant Director of Academy City. "It's me." He said when the line picked up, though there was no greeting from the other man. Par for the course, especially lately. "Are you absolutely sure you know what you're doing?" Heaven Canceller asked Aleister, getting right to the point of his concerns.

"Everything is still proceeding according to plan." Aleister replied neutrally.

"Really? I have a Saint unconscious in my ICU with the worst case of radiation poisoning I've ever seen in a living being, who looks to have lost a physical fight with someone tonight. Setting aside the fact that the Saint lost a fight... we both know it can and does happen... the radiation is what bothers me. Whatever caused that, if exposed to the wider public, could cause a massive health problem for the City. I do my best to stay out of your way regarding the experiments and research programs of the city, despite not agreeing with them, but I'm not going to just quietly stand by if you're going to just let such a potential public danger run around loose!" Heaven Canceller replied, his voice just barely on the side of polite. Aleister had once been his best friend and closest confidant, and he had thought that he was such in turn for Aleister. Whether that had once been true or not, it certainly wasn't the case now. Now they were just Doctor and Patient, with only their long association giving him any hope of influence at all.

"Steps are being taken to deal with this new and unwanted presence in the City." Aleister reiterated. "This is hardly the worst situation this City has dealt with under my guidance, you are aware. You did not interfere in the past, and there is no reason for you to do so now. Concern yourself with your patients... leave the City to me. That was our arrangement, was it not?"

"I consider everyone in this city... especially the young men and women we turn into Espers... to be my patients, Aleister. None of this would have come about if we hadn't performed the initial research on my own ability. I am responsible for everything that you have done since then, and it makes me sick sometimes, thinking about what you have done with the trust I gave you." Heaven Canceller's voice was tired and weary, but resolute. "How did you let it become like this, Aleister? We were supposed to be helping the world, not dominating it from the shadows..."

"We are helping the world. We are saving it, from itself if need be. We alone have the vision, the technology, the drive and the brain trust, needed to bring about the salvation of the world and the solutions to all its problems. Once SYSTEM is achieved, suffering as we know it will cease to exist, Doctor. Any steps we take along that path are necessary and vital ones, even if it means creating or tolerating suffering in the meanwhile." Aleister answered, his voice remaining, as always, completely calm and almost inflectionless.

"So the ends justify the means, do they? I remember a time when you mocked such thinking as limited and boring, and now you endorse it." Heaven Canceller frowned with distaste.

"Not always. But my ends... our ends... justify whatever is needed. Do you really want to have this argument again? It won't change anything. You know what you have to do if you want to change my mind and change the course of this city. It would be as easy as typing in a security code in the right console. You might even be able to do it from where you sit now, for all I know." Aleister told him flatly.

"I'm not going to kill you Aleister, and you know it." Heaven Canceller rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. "I would be surprised even if I could... you've had long enough to change that failsafe if you wanted to, surely. Relying solely on one man's commitment to his oath to do no harm, would be a risk beyond what you are comfortable with, even with your confidence in your plans. But can you at least promise me that whatever it is that you have brewing, won't become a hazard to public health and safety? This City is always a powder keg, but with the American's here on official visitation, and now this new group, who appears to be related to Magic, active in the city and causing trouble, I worry that you might not be as in control as you think you are. You're not a God, Aleister, you can't account for everything. Especially with Tree Diagram gone."

"Tree Diagram was just a prototype, used to draw public attention. The computer systems within my sanctum are far more powerful and advanced. I assure you, no matter how chaotic or random events may seem to you, all have been accounted for and predicted, and countermeasures prepared. I... we... have come too far to allow failure now." Aleister asserted.

"Doctors often feel the same way when operating on a patient, you know. Sometimes they still die, even though you have everything in hand. If the system is too broken, too wounded, even the best doctor can't fix it in time." Heaven Canceller retorted. "Arrogance is no defense against calamity, Aleister."

"It is not arrogance, it is confidence. Your analogy doesn't even hold up, regardless. There is one doctor in this world who can save any patient who is brought to his operation table as long as there is even the slightest spark of life remaining within them. No matter how severe, how comprehensive the damage may be, that doctor can and will save that patient one hundred percent of the time. Isn't that right, Heaven Canceller?" Aleister said smoothly.

"I cheat using my ability." Heaven Canceller countered, even though he knew that it was a weak excuse.

"And I cheat using mine, both the ones I possess myself and the ones I create in others. We are the same. We were the same back then, and we are the same now. We just operate on different scales. We simply don't agree on what proper triage procedures are. We are, each in our own ways, both Heaven Cancellers. We defy the logic and expectations of the world, and in so doing, we will save it, no matter how broken it is. You are letting your squeamishness speak for you, that's all." Aleister told him.

"You know what I've lived through and done. I am not in the least bit squeamish. I do however possess a strong moral and ethical compass, whereas you seem to have thrown yours aside in favor of forcing yourself towards your goal regardless of who you have to step on or break through to do it. What you do isn't triage, Aleister, it's akin to amputation rather than surgery. It might still save a patient in some cases, but it is applied far too readily and too often. If you keep cutting away at your patient to get rid of all the "bad spots", eventually you won't have a patient left, just scraps of flesh and blood." Heaven Canceller said, allowing abit of his anger to show.

"Your admonishment is noted." Aleister said, and though mostly inflectionless his tone still obviously indicated that though noted, it would also be ignored. "But if you're done venting about a problem you refuse to take action to confront yourself, I do have other things I could be doing right now. Including dealing with this problem you are complaining about."

Heaven Canceller breathed another heavy sigh. "Then I guess there's nothing more to say, is there? There's just no talking to you anymore. Goodbye Aleister. I will see you at the next scheduled checkup." He hung up the phone, knowing that Aleister wouldn't even see the abrupt end to the call as rude. Social niceties were just one of the aspects of humanity that his former friend tended to neglect these days. Heaven Canceller sat in his chair thinking for several long minutes. It was unlike him to get involved in anything regarding the City's Dark side. But that didn't mean he never did it, when asked by a patient he trusted, or when necessary. And he really was worried about this radiation hazard, whatever it might be. At length he picked up the phone again, and decided to set at least some form of reliable countermeasure, who was uniquely suited for dealing with extreme radiation, into motion. He dialed a number that he did not often call, but which did call him fairly frequently.

"Hello, Accelerator? Yes, it is me. I was wondering if you might do me a small favor..."

xxxx

 **A Certain Highschool Dorm, earlier that night**

"TOUMA! I am STARVING! I am withering away from lack of sustenance! Where is dinner!?" Index complained, half sprawled face down across the dinner table, her nun's shawl removed to allow her long silvery-blue hair to drape freely, though of course she still wore rest of the patched and pinned together remnants of her Walking Church. It wasn't the only outfit she possessed, though most of her other clothing sets were temporary, borrowed from friends for specific situations, such as the cheerleader outfit from the Daihaisei festival. However it was the one she found the most comfortable, even if she did get jabbed with the pointy end of a safety pin every now and again. Though most of the magic that had infused it and turned it into a walking bunker, proof against most forms of physical and magical harm, was gone ever since Touma had touched it with his Imagine Breaker, there were still some dregs of magic in it that helped keep it clean and smelling good even though she only washed it occasionally.

"It's coming Index, be patient." Touma replied from where he was working in his small but well stocked kitchen. Cooking was one of his passions, both out of enjoyment and necessity, as it allowed him to turn large quantities of cheap ingredients into multiple tasty meals in order to extend his limited budget. Or at least it did before he'd acquired his freeloader roommate. These days it just barely allowed him to feed them both without entirely breaking his wallet... assuming nothing went wrong. And with him, things almost always went wrong. Today's dinner was seafood stir fry, as he'd found a special on Shrimp at one of his grocery stores, and stocked on several pounds of fresh frozen crustaceans as a result. Combining that with a pesto made of cilantro, garlic, shredded ginger, lime juice, crushed red pepper, peanuts, honey and a jalapeno pepper, and then pouring it over rice mixed with pan seared vegetables, made for quite a delicious and filling meal. Eighty percent of it would go into Index's stomach in less than an hour, and half of what was left would suffice him for dinner and the other half maybe for his own lunch tomorrow.

"But I've been starving all day! Those sandwiches you make me never fill me up properly! I always have to go out and forage for more food myself!" Index complained somewhat nasally. She was pinching her nose to block out the smell of dinner... not because it was disgusting, but the opposite. The heavenly smell was pure torture to her growling stomach. Just because she ate in large quantity, and was comfortable eating just about anything that could be defined as food, even loosely, did not mean she did not appreciate quality food when it was on offer! A soft mew from beside her caused her to turn and pick up Sphinx, her beloved kitten, and place him on her lap. Sphinx was no doubt hungry too, though generally he got his table scraps from Touma's plate, as Index rarely left anything so large as scraps on a plate of food she was eating from.

The cause of her ravenous hunger... and perhaps more shocking, her apparent metabolism that allowed her to consume like that without becoming as fat as a whale in short order... was unknown to her. She had been like this for as long as she could remember. Which wasn't that long, to be true, but she doubted it was something that had come about recently either. Personally, and privately, she surmised that it had to do with the geas and other binding and security magics that the Church had layered onto her as part of her job as the Index Librorum Prohibitorum. Most magical enhancements and wards required a trickle flow of Mana to maintain on a person or object once the spellcaster's own Mana flow was severed. However her own Mana was sealed from her, and that meant all the wards and spells were probably drawing on her physical energies in some manner, thus requiring massive calorie intake on a frequent basis to keep her healthy. Maybe. She had been denied food for relatively long periods before, after all, and while it made her very grumpy, it didn't make her feel especially weak or ill, as she might expect of a drain on her vitality to do. She pretended otherwise at times, to cadge more food from people, but in reality she was fine, just unhappy.

Whether it was intentional or a side effect, either way it was a means of controlling her, she realized. Making it harder for her to escape from the Church's influence and control, as she required massive food intake every couple hours, which got in the way of running away, and made her even more distinctive to passersby than she already was. Fortunately Touma always... or almost always... managed to provide enough to at least take the edge off her hunger and give her the energy and concentration to live a fairly normal life. It was hard on him, she knew that. She also knew he would keep doing it regardless, and would complain only halfheartedly and never with true anger. And she also knew that he would not want her to seem to be worrying about him, even though she did, so she did her best to pretend to nonchalance about the whole thing.

Focusing on thoughts of her friend and guardian helped distract her from the smells, and from her own memories. She had a perfect memory after all, for all five of her senses, which meant she could recall with total fidelity every meal she'd ever eaten that was made by Touma. Every bite, every burst of flavor, was completely available to her at any time. Dwelling on such things when she was already hungry though, only made her even more hungry and irritable, and often caused her to resort to biting to convey her displeasure when she eventually did catch up with wherever Touma had wandered off too when he should have been taking care of her. Though ever since the late night encounter with the strange boy outside the dorm when on their way back from the airport, she had been resorting to less biting. She had never considered before that moment that placing her mouth on Touma in such a fashion could be seen as a form of intimate play, rather than an act of punishment! Even the time she'd accidentally kissed his cheek when she missed a bite during the Daihaisei, had seemed like just a fluke, whereas the biting was intentional.

Index knew she was innocent about many of the ways of the world, even as she was also not innocent in many ways... the knowledge containing within many of the Grimoires she had memorized was hardly the sort of stuff one talked about in polite society. Some of the texts were horrifying in their subject matter and candid discussions of the ways magic could be used for various effects on people. She had a thorough grounding in biology, and understood the mechanics of sex and reproduction just fine. It was in the romantic nuances that she was innocent, shielded from such "impure" matters by her seclusion with convents and churches for most of her life, the only males she ever interacted with being her guardians, all of whom were vetted and closely watched by the church to ensure they remained proper in their relationship with her at all times. Index did not know how old she was, but given her relatively physical development, sad as it was in certain areas, she guessed she was around 14 years old, give or take a few months.

Old enough that now that her memories weren't being erased every year, she was free to wonder about and contemplate matters regarding young men, and how simultaneously aggravating and interesting they could be. Well, not young men in general, just one young man in particular. She generally interacted with males the same as she did with females, seeing people for the sort of people they were, not based on their gender. Touma on the other hand was a different matter. She could not help but be aware that he was a young man, only a year or two older than her. She did live with him after all, but it was more than that. His actions came to her notice much moreso than other young men, even if they were the same sort of actions. Like how his friends talking about girls and perverted matters didn't bother her... young men were apt to be curious about such things, the same as young women. But when Touma did it, it always made her flustered and irritable, feeling maligned and insulted even though he was just talking with his friends.

Sorting out her feelings for Touma was difficult, and a little scary, so she often pushed away such thoughts, simply living in the moment and enjoying each day of life as it came. But she couldn't deny that her feelings would have to be addressed eventually, and she wasn't sure how she wanted them to be addressed. She had told him, after he saved her from her memory wipes, that she loved him. And that had not been a lie. She did love him. He had saved her, and done so in the most heroic and amazing fashion possible, and she was nothing more than a stranger to him at the time... he hadn't even known her for more than a couple days! And he'd fought magicians, even a Saint, to protect her, just because she needed protecting. And he cooked amazing food! How could she not fall in love with someone like that?

But she wasn't sure what sort of love it was. All too often it felt like romantic love, especially when she embarrassed herself by accidentally kissing him, or was seen in a revealing moment by him and got flustered, or especially when he was around other girls who seemed attracted to him, and she felt hot and angry inside for no good reason. But was that just because of her hormones and his attractive and heroic qualities? Certainly Touma never seemed to regard her in a romantic light in turn, despite having plentiful opportunities to do so. And though he was often perverted, she also knew it was never intentional. Which was both a relief and an irritation. It was confusing. She didn't want him to be perverted with girls. But she sometimes felt like him being just a little perverted, with her alone, wouldn't be too bad...

Balancing all that out was her vows as a nun and servant of God. She was sworn to chastity by her profession, and though she could not help feeling the attractions she did, acting upon them was beyond all doubt a Sin. Of course remaining a Nun was a voluntary act... one could leave the Sisterhood with relatively little ceremony, especially in modern times. Well, at least it was for normal people. Index wasn't sure how the Church would react if she tried to formally leave its hierarchy. Certainly she would never not be involved with Magic, simply because of who and what she was. She could declare herself independent all she wanted, it wouldn't stop anyone from coming after her, and many people would simply regard it as some sort of ruse or deception anyway. But also, she didn't want to stop being a Nun. She was doing important work, and she was uniquely suited to doing it. She truly did feel called by God into her lifestyle. Some might think that she ought to be cynical about faith, given how she was involved in the covert and secret side of the Church so often, but her faith had never wavered, no matter how many times she saw other people abusing that faith for their own ends.

In her capacity as a Nun, loving others was allowed and even encouraged... as long as it was a Sisterly, familial sort of love. But that sort of love could not be juxtaposed with romantic love, that was forbidden and a grave Sin indeed. And it wasn't as simple as her teenaged body feeling lust for Touma, while her mind remained pure and chaste... it was all much more mixed up and muddled and confused than that. Which often made her very irritable and impatient with him, which led to her being unfair to him when his bad luck occurred, and then punishing him for it. By climbing on him and biting him, both acts of physical closeness, even intimacy, though not meant as such. At least not consciously, though she was starting to wonder about her subconscious. If only Touma would give her some sort of clue as to how HE felt about her, some sort of definite hint regarding whether he saw her as a girl whom he might be attracted to, or if he saw her as a sister or sorts, that would be VERY helpful.

Alas Touma seemed entirely unaware of her confused feelings in this regard. At times he seemed like a big brother. Other times he was looking at her in a way no big brother ought to look at a little sister, even by accident, regardless of what his blond friend wanted to believe. Combined with her own inexperience in such matters, and her feeling scared to find out one way or another, as no matter which way he answered, she felt like she would feel disappointed and hurt, and it was definitely the sort of problem she tended to just push down the road whenever it came up. Touma kept being dense and perverted and she kept alternately punishing him and then worrying about why she was punishing him... as if she didn't have enough reasons to worry about him already! She no longer even asked him if he was getting involved in trouble... she just assumed he was always involved in something, and had not yet been proven wrong.

He was definitely involved in something right now. He'd been distracted and quiet and a little distant for several days now, since he'd helped stop that terror attack at the end of last month. Index didn't know much about it besides what the news said, as it didn't seem to be a Magic side issue from what she could tell. However, Touma had been evasive when questioned about it, and that generally meant that there was something about it which might concern Magic or something she had knowledge of, and that he was trying to prevent her from getting involved in. It was simultaneously annoying and appealing. Being protected by the man she might be in love with in a romantic sense, that appealed to her. On the other hand, having her friend/big brother figure keeping her out of his problems when she might very well have the knowledge to help him solve them, that was annoying. So sometimes she involved herself anyway, or got dragged in due to the actions of others. She had not done so in this case, yet, though given how he continued to be preoccupied after so long, she might have to change that.

Index looked up from her ruminations to see Touma approaching, plates of steaming food held in both hands, and she immediately ceased her ruminations to focus on far more critical and immediate matters. It was dinner time!

xxxx

Touma watched Index consume dinner with her usual gusto, utensils moving in a blur as her jaw seemed to unhinge, like a snakes, to allow more food to be shoveled in at a time, her teeth working like an industrial machine, chewing up the food and swallowing it down. It looked like she hardly even tasted it, given how fast she ate, but she was always perfectly able to tell him about every flavor within each dish he created, so apparently she did taste it. And quite liked it. She was often effusive in her praise for his cooking, though he wished she might show her appreciation sometimes by eating a more normal sized portion, rather than constantly demanding seconds, thirds, fourths and more. Then again, a normal portion would just leave her hungry and grouchy all night, and that was no fun at all to be around.

He ate his own food much more slowly, both savoring it, and because he had a lot on his mind. Especially since his talk with Tsuchimikado at the school the day before. He had, after much soul searching, decided that he would reverse his original decision, and support Misaka in her desire to learn more about Magic. It was, as had been thoroughly pointed out to him, not his choice whether she did or not, all he could do was try to see that she did it as safe as possible. However the fact was that their last parting had not exactly been all that friendly... he still got shivers when he recalled the look of hurt and anger on her face when he denied her attempt to get information out of him. Not only did he need to inform her of his changed decision, he needed to find a way to apologize to her as well. And to figure out a way of surviving long enough to say that apology with an infuriated Level 5 in front of him.

And then of course there was the issue of what would come after telling Misaka about Magic. Explaining his past adventures would probably be easy enough, though he expected her to get upset about the injuries he'd suffered in the past. But the thing that had started this whole problem still loomed ahead of them. Someone had provided those Terrorists with the Magic bags, and had reanimated that one guy as some sort of monster. Whether that someone was still in the city or not, he had no way of knowing, but given his luck, they'd probably be establishing a base in the City or something. He knew Misaka, and he knew himself... the Terrorists were just lackeys, the symptom of a greater problem that now threatened the City. Until they found out who the Mastermind and likely Mage was that had put the Terrorists up to their attack and provided their equipment, neither of them would rest easy. That meant not only would Misaka find out about Magic, she would fight against it... and win or lose, that was not going to make authorities both inside and outside the city very happy.

He would do everything he could to keep her involvement minimal, but as he had found out, his influence over what Misaka did or did not do or how involved she got, was not really something he could control. Certainly not just as her friend and acquaintance and sorta rival anyway. Potentially he could try the angle of using her feelings of love for him in a sort of emotional arm twisting, which could be effective... it would just make him feel like absolute scum. Not to mention her feelings weren't one sided, despite appearances, and he knew he would never forgive himself for doing that to a girl he cared about like that. And it could easily go the other way too... she might be all the more determined to get involved, because she was in love with him. Especially if what Tsuchimikado said was true, and she felt that his attempts to keep her safe were saying that he thought she was a burden that could only be protected by him, not relied upon as an equal.

 _Why do girls have to be so complicated?_ Touma complained to himself. Though he supposed that guys were complicated too, in fairness. Girls just seemed to take it all the way up to 11, especially attractive girls, and doubly especially that particular attractive girl. Of course, he did only have himself to blame. If he was more open and honest with her, and with everyone, a lot of the confusion would be cleared up. But honestly, nothing terrified him more than coming clean about his feelings, his thoughts and especially his memory loss. He didn't feel like anyone would reject him, per se, but the pain it would cause them all the same was more than he was willing to face, much less bear. Touma took another bite of his dinner, aware that he had slowed almost to a stop and that Index was giving him an odd look while she cleaned her latest plate.

He knew that she knew something was up, though she had apparently decided it was none of her business thus far and not bothered him about it. Hiding anything from Index was difficult, her perfect memory allowed her to review every conversation and interaction for hints and clues after the fact. Just about the only thing he was even fairly confident he had hidden from her was his memory loss. And even that he wasn't entirely sure of. But more to the point, since he knew actually relatively little about Magic, aside from being able to point out obvious examples of it as different from Esper powers, if he was going to explain anything to Misaka, he was going to need help. And while he had considered Tsuchimikado for that, his friend could be unreliable in such matters... and there was no telling what ELSE Tsuchimikado might tell Misaka just to fuck with him later. That meant Index would be his best option... she knew more about magic than pretty much anyone after all.

The problem being was that Index and Misaka didn't exactly get along well. They weren't enemies or anything, but they both had romantic feelings for him, and they were both the type to be a bit insecure and jealous about it, all the moreso because he had not indicated any preference and pretended not to notice at all. They wouldn't even call each other by name, using perjorative nicknames such as Short Hair or Silver Sister, even in the most casual of conversations. He was sure that Index would help him if he asked, he just didn't want it to turn into a fight with Misaka later. Though perhaps once Misaka realized why he was hanging around with Index so much, because he was guarding her, she would be less prickly about it. And perhaps once Index saw that Misaka was butting in because she really cared about him and wanted to, she might cut the Level 5 some slack. They might even end up becoming friends over it. Well, in an ideal world anyway. He was just hoping for basic civility, and planning for worse.

"You don't have to talk to me about it if you don't want to." Index said out of nowhere, actually setting down her latest plate of food half finished to look at him. "But if there's something bothering you, I want to help, Touma. You do so much for me, I want to help you too, you know?"

His first instinct, as with Misaka, was to deny that anything was bothering him. But that wouldn't work, because he needed her help. And because he was trying to wean himself off the whole "do everything myself to protect others" thing. He still wanted to do that, but he had awakened to the idea that doing so didn't make others happy all the time, and in fact just made some people worry more. Getting his friends involved in his problems rubbed him the wrong way, and always would. But then again, he didn't always get that choice either, so he had better learn hown to accept help when it was being offered, or else he would just end up working at odds with the people who ought to be his closest allies. He took another bite of dinner and swallowed heavily, clearing his throat.

"Actually, I do want to talk about it." He said, causing Index to blink in surprise. Clearly she had expected him to change or deny the topic, having just offered her words as a way of assuaging his guilt, without expecting that he would take her up on it. Then she smiled, radiantly almost, her pure joy at being taken into his confidence and relied on by him, even in a small way, making him wonder why he had been afraid to do so in the past. "And I do want your help." He added, and if anything Index's smile seemed to grow even brighter.

"Recently, there was an incident in the city, with terrorists attacking a tram station. I happened to be involved, purely by accident." Touma winced as Index simply shrugged and nodded at that. That was how his luck worked after all. "Misaka was there as well, along with Shirai, her roommate, and my City Guide partner. She's the girl who teleported you out of the underground mall that one time. There were also two American Espers who Shirai and I were guiding around the city. Working together we managed to stop the terrorists, though we couldn't save everyone, as two bystander students and one of the terrorists were killed. Technically I think the terrorist died twice actually." Touma explained, and then went into more detail about what he had seen regarding the bags and the reanimated monster terrorist. Index's face grew stern and contemplative, as she browsed through the knowledge inside her brain.

"From what you're describing, it sounds like he was reanimated as a Wight, a form of semi-sentient Undead with the power to paralyze people via touch. They are created by infusing a human, or sometimes animal, corpse with negative magical energies, creating a sort of "anti-soul" within them, which then re-animates the body, either under the control of a Necromancer or other spellcaster, or uncontrolled. They are vulnerable to fire, like most Undead, and also to Holy or Blessed objects such as Holy Water or a religious item carried by someone with true faith. And to Imagine Breaker, obviously, being a magical construct of a sort. Though that black fire seemed to be more of a self destruct mechanism than anything... a normal Wight should have been turned back into a corpse by you, not destroyed." Index told him with a frown.

"As for the bags, spatial distortion magic is commonplace. My own Walking Church had some spatial magic woven into it to enhance its defensive properties. I'm not saying that just anyone could make such bags, but there are easily several thousand individuals the Church knows about with the talent to produce such things to various degrees. It is however, rare to give such magical items to normal people... such bags are infused with the mana of the creator, and could be used as a symbolic link back to them if they do not take certain precautions, allowing them to be tracked or identified. While it is unlikely that any scientific methods will be able to determine anything about the bags, if a magician were to gain control of one, a simple tracking spell could lead them right back to the creator in short order." She continued, and then shrugged. "But who knows where the city authorities have taken them, or if they weren't just destroyed via contingent magic like the Wight was."

"A bigger problem is that when we were at the hospital afterwards... don't look at me like that, I didn't get hurt, just a few scrapes!" Touma said, flinching back from the look Index gave him when he mentioned the hospital, of which he was a rather frequent visitor and sometimes tenant. "As I was saying, at the hospital afterwards I sat and talked with Misaka some. She was feeling depressed that she couldn't save everyone, and I tried to cheer her up a little. But I ended up talking myself into a corner when I accidentally mentioned how I was sure the bags were Magical in nature, and she picked up on that. She wanted to know more, but I denied her and told her that it wasn't something she should get involved in."

"You did the right thing. It would cause a lot of trouble if a powerful Esper were to gain knowledge of Magic. Many in the Magic Side would see that as a grave threat." Index said, agreeing solemnly. That just made him wince all the more.

"Well, right thing or not, Misaka isn't the sort of person to take no for an answer. Not after encountering it herself. She is going to look for Magic on her own, and she'll probably find it... there's been too much Magic side activity in this city over the last few months for it all to be swept under the rug enough for her to not find it eventually. She got really angry with me, and it took me a while to figure out why. I've helped her out from time to time with some things, and she wants to help me out in turn." Touma glossed over exactly what he had helped her out with. "So when I told her not to get involved, she took that to mean that I didn't trust her and that I thought was too weak to help me. Which was not my intention at all, but such is my misfortune."

"Sounds like Short Hair is even troublesome than I first thought." Index said sourly.

"She's not that bad." Touma refuted, which only seemed to put an even more sour expression on Index's face. "In the end, I decided that I was wrong. I wanted to keep her from getting involved in Magic, but simply by being there during the Terror attack, she was already involved. She nearly got chomped on by a Wight! She's not about to forget that or pass it off as a weird coincidence or Esper power! She's going to continue to be involved regardless of what I want or what is safe. So if I want to protect her, and I do, the best way to do it is to tell her all about the Magic side so she can be properly forewarned..." Touma trailed off as he saw the look on Index's face, which was positively grim, her lips drawing back to reveal what seemed to be razor sharp teeth. :H-h-hey! Use your words! Wor... AGGHGGH! Misfortune!" He flinched backwards, falling over as Index pounced on him, teeth flashing, followed instinctively by Sphinx, claws extended.

After an extended biting and clawing session which had involved quite a bit of wrestling to try and pull the very agitated and displeased Index off of him before her teeth could inflict worse than surface marks, Touma sat upright again, Index half straddling his lap. He kept his hands down by his sides, not wanting to provoke any further action from her, his face and arms liberally marked with tooth imprints as it was. She was pouting at him in the way she had when she was frustrated with him but slowly coming to terms with it. Her presence on his lap was a bit distracting, but she seemed comfortable even if he wasn't, so he made no protest. Especially since he still had to ask for her help. "Of course, when presented with what everyone in the world considers the right way to handle a situation, you decide to do the opposite." Index said in a quiet growl. "Why would I expect anything different from you?" She sounded both annoyed yet also a bit amused.

"Yeah, I guess so... ha ha..." Touma chuckled weakly, as Index laid her forehead against his chest.

"Fine. I assume you want me to explain Magic to Short Hair then?" Index said, her words a little muffled by her position.

"Preferably without calling her Short Hair. She really has a bit of a complex about nicknames..."

"What is this girl to you, Touma?" Index asked, ignoring his last remark. "What's so special about Short Hair that would cause you to allow her to go into danger like this, rather than trying to stop her and take everything on yourself?"

"That was my initial plan of action you know. Though I feel like you mean it as an insult, not a compliment." Touma answered lightheartedly. That was not the sort of answer Index was apparently looking for though, as she lifted her head from his chest, grabbing him by his shirt and glaring at him from bare inches away.

"Why is Short Hair so special?" Index asked again, softer but more intensely.

"Special? She's not that special. I mean, yeah, she's a Level 5 and all, but she's just a normal girl really." Touma turned his head away and shrugged. He got the feeling he knew what Index was asking, but he wasn't about to have THAT conversation with her. "She's a friend. All my friends are special, each in their own way."

"Is that so? Hmmph." Index leaned back with a suspicious grunt, an expression crossing her face he could not interpret before she sighed heavily. "Very well then. I'll help you, because I can see that you've already made a mess of the situation, and if you don't get supervision, you'll only make it worse at this rate. But Short Hair will remain Short Hair. And she'd better not get lippy while I'm doing my explanation!"

"Thanks, Index." Touma said with a smile. Now it was Index's turn to look away, a slight flush creeping onto her cheeks.

"Hmmph." She scoffed again in clear disgruntlement, clambering off his lap and wandering away to sit in front of the TV, clearly needing some time and space to get her poise back.

"Well that's one problem dealt with... now I just have to figure out how I'm going to get in touch with Misaka without her frying me on sight... such misfortune..." Touma said under his breath. Though unlike usual, this time he was smiling.


	17. Stalkers and Spies

**Author Note:**

I usually use this space for replying to reviews that I don't do via PM. But as yet Chapter 16 only has 1 review. Am I writing faster than my regular reviewers can respond? Guess it's a good situation for you guys at least. Though if you haven't reviewed yet, please do consider it. Feedback is meat and drink to a Fanfic author. Page views are nice, to know people are reading your work, but that's like bread and water. Fine dining can only be found in a review, an opinion of the reader about what you wrote. That's why we post things after all. If it was solely for our own creative pleasure, we would just keep it for ourselves and close friends. And if we wanted to make a living off writing, fanfiction wouldn't be the medium for that. We share our worlds and scenarios with you, and hopefully some of you will share your opinions back.

xxxx

 **Academy City, October 3rd, Evening, outside a Certain Highschool Dorm**

"Hmmm..." Kuroko mumbled under her breath, looking around the residential sector she was scoping out. It was in District 7, just like the School Garden and her own dorm, and actually wasn't that far from the latter, only a kilometer or two. That in retrospect made sense, as District 7 was the District for Middle and High Schools in Academy City. It still sat ill with her that fate would be so cruel as to place the Trog's place of living within easy walking distance of her own residence. Even as it was convenient for her purposes that night, as she commenced her first mission for her Onee-Sama, spying on the vile Trog in his natural habitat, in order to learn his habits, discover his weaknesses, and uncover solid evidence of his total unsuitability to be Onee-Sama's romantic partner. And incidentally to see what, if anything, he had to do with this Magic stuff Onee-Sama was so concerned about. And very distant on her list of priorities, to intervene in case someone substantially threatened the Trog while she was spying on him. Which she discounted as unlikely at best... he was just a high school boy after all, even if not exactly a normal one. Pissing off level 5's wasn't smart, but at least for her Onee-Sama and the Zephyr Queen so far, it wouldn't be fatal.

She had used her Judgement data access to look up the Trog's file, finding to her disgruntlement it made absolutely no mention of his mysterious ability to prevent her power from working on him, stating that he was indeed, as far as the city was concerned, a level 0. She wanted to look up more information, such as school records, but that was beyond her normal access level for a simple curiousity search, and it would raise flags in the system that she didn't want to have to explain. She also noted he had a great deal of Anti-Skill flags on his file, but those too were sealed from her without a pressing reason regarding an ongoing case, and this favor for Onee-Sama was off the books. She had at least found out exactly where he lived, and noted with a grim smile that his dorm apartment was listed in city records as single occupancy only... he was NOT authorized to be having a roommate, regardless of gender.

It was starting to get dark as the sun crept towards the horizon, and she was just now reaching the target area. Her preparations had taken longer than she'd expected. Though that wasn't all bad... she'd initially budgeted less time for showing the new transfer student around the school, but after hitting it off with Claudia, she had lingered beyond just what the minimum demands of duty required. That girl was definitely a refreshing change of pace from the normal at Tokiwadai, and for the first time in a long while, perhaps even since she met her Onee-Sama, Kuroko was actually looking forward to getting to know and be friends with a fellow Tokiwadai student. Kongou and her friends didn't count in that, of course, she meant on her own initiative. Once she pulled herself away from playing tour guide, then had been the trip to the 177th Branch for info, and then a side trip to the mall to pick up a disguise.

Kuroko figured that since she was performing a personal favor for her Onee-Sama, and that she was planning on staying out well past curfew that day... it briefly amused her to think that for once it was Onee-Sama that might have to figure out ways to fool the Dorm Mistress into thinking Kuroko was home when she was not, rather than the other way around... that wearing the Tokiwdai uniform was not appropriate. She didn't plan on being spotted, but the uniform did stand out, especially outside the School Garden, and in the vicinity of a Highschool dorm. Reducing her visibility was only common sense. And if she was going to be in one place observing for a while, her school blazer and skirt would not be anywhere close to warm enough, given the temperatures at night. Cargo pants that were loose enough to run in but tight enough not to get caught on things, a long sleeve T shirt, and a button up overshirt, underneath a fleece jacket, with comfortable tennis shoes, should suffice. She got gloves and muffler just in case, as well as knit hat, and even changed her hairstyle to a single ponytail that she could wedge under the hat if need be, rather than her usual twin pig tails.

The clothes were meant for boys, not girls, which she found unpleasant, but also handy. With her small size and naturally petite chest, in relatively loose and baggy clothes meant for the other gender, she could pass, at a squint, as a boy rather than a girl. She doubted that even Onee-Sama would recognize her at a distance in this get up, and that meant that even if she did have to follow the Trog on the street rather than observer him at home, he was extremely unlikely to realize who she was, if he even noticed her at all. She also purchased a new camera with a high powered zoom and a lens filter for nighttime photography. All in all, it wasn't cheap, but she cared little for the cost. She had spent more money on far less worthy matters trying to get Onee-Sama's attention in the past.

 _That building looks like the best bet._ Kuroko thought to herself, looking up at a building that was across the street from the Trog's dorm. If she had the location of his room figured right, a position on the rooftop of the other building would offer a more or less unimpeded view right across the Trog's balcony and through his sliding glass doors. She'd looked up the dorm floorplan for this particular building as well, and knew that the view from her prospective vantage point should show her everything except for the bathroom. And that was ok. She was devoted to her Onee-Sama and this mission, but the idea of witnessing the Trog nude and lathered up in the bath turned her stomach so hard she felt dizzy and weak. No amount of brain bleach would ever suffice to remove such images from her mind, she would be mentally tainted forever!

Narrowing her eyes, Kuroko calculated the best route from the street to the top of the building. It was outside the range of her single teleport movement, so she would need to make at least one stop for readjustment and recalculation on the way. Part of her power was a relatively increased level of visual-spatial acuity, which though it didn't actually improve her eyesight any, did allow her to assess the approximate distance between her current position and anything in her field of view nearly instantly and with a high degree of accuracy. This was a vital part of Teleporting safely, in order not to rematerialize within solid objects, or in order to properly hit her targets when using her darts or other objects as weapons. Most Teleporters, as far as she knew, possessed a similar sense for distance, even if it wasn't always visual like hers was. It was certainly possible to teleport without it, such as when she was trying to bypass solid objects like walls or ceilings, but that was risky unless she either knew the location well, like her dorm room, or if she had time to examine the location first or had certain knowledge of its dimensions and interior spaces.

There would be no need for risk in this transit. She could just teleport straight up, then keep doing so as fast as she could, in order to gain altitude as she teleported upwards further than she fell in the brief period between teleports. That was pretty noticable though, so she instead aimed for several balconies of rooms that had their lights off on her chosen building, reckoning that those had occupants who were asleep or not home, thus though wouldn't mind or even notice her brief presence on their balcony. As soon as the route was calculated, she leapt into the 11th dimension, reappearing in almost no time at all on the first balcony, then zig-zagging her way up the building from there. The time between her teleports was less than a second, though the teleports themselves were not quite instant, which actually worked out well, allowing her to dodge things while completely within the 11th Dimension that instant movement would have put her in the way of. Most people found teleportation movement to be jarring and disorientating, but for Kuroko, especially on a pre-calculated route, it was as natural as breathing or walking.

Reaching the roof, she looked around, satisfied that no one had seen her arrive. There were a couple of roof accesses... a door built into a hut in the middle of the roof would lead to an internal stairwell for maintenance of the air conditioning and heating units built into the roof for venting and air intake. That was locked though, so she did not anticipate anyone coming up from that way without her hearing it in plenty of time to move. The was a fire escape stairway down either side of the building as well, leading into the adjacent alleys. But those were both made of grates of metal, and she was sure she would hear anyone walking up those in plenty of time as well. Content that she was unobserved and that no one would be surprising her during her vigil, she knelt down by the side of the building, where it was raised up in a knee high safety wall, which was perfect for resting her elbows on as she raised the camera and adjusted the focus, sweeping it across the building opposite her, counting rooms and floors until she found the right coordinates. The lair of the Trog was right there!

 _What is this!? I know he admitted to it, but this is beyond anything I was expecting!_ Kuroko thought in shock and anger, as she immediately saw the Trog's roommate, who was indeed a girl, looking about Kuroko's own age, maybe a little younger. She was dressed in some sort of robes of yellow and white, which might have been related to a religion of some sort... a student of the Theocratic Schools in District 12 perhaps? That was a long commute to and from school though, well half the city away. The girl had silvery blue hair that fell to about her waist, and her skin was paler than the norm, making Kuroko wonder if she was a foreigner of some sort. She looked faintly familiar for some reason, but Kuroko couldn't quite place her. She took a few photos and continued her observation. The girl was sitting on a bed tucked along one wall, the sheets and covers mussed up, obviously from being slept in. And there certainly wasn't any other place for the Trog to sleep in such a small apartment, so Kuroko was left with no choice but to assume that the Trog and his... his... his paramour... shared the bed at night! The girl looked barely old enough to be in Middle School, and she was sharing a bed with an older boy?! What sort of den of vice and depravity was this!?

The Trog did not currently seem to be in residence, and the silver hair girl was amusing herself by watching something on the TV. Kuroko couldn't get the best angle on it, but it seemed to be some sort of animated kids show, which only made her wonder if the girl was even as old as she appeared. Forgot breaking dorm rules about having members of the opposite sex staying in the same room, she was beginning to wonder if these wasn't some sort of outright felony here. _Is that it?! Is that why the Trog has pursued Onee-Sama? Does he prefer the "undeveloped" sort of girl? That sick son of a bitch! I will kill him!_ Murderous intention rose up within her like bile, and she forced it down with difficulty. She was making assumptions and leaps of logic, and that could get her in trouble. Presenting evidence to Onee-Sama that had some other sort of rational explanation would just make her look stupid, and like she was trying to intentionally sabotage the Trog out of jealousy. And Onee-Sama would definitely not look upon that kindly, she had made that very clear.

It was also beneath her as a Judgement Officer to prosecute a case on speculation rather than hard facts. Unless and until she actually got photographic evidence of the Trog engaging in inappropriate activities with the silver hair girl, in bed or not, she didn't have any hard proof to lay triumphantly before her Onee-Sama. Just having the girl in his room like this was definitely a violation of the Dorm Rules... but both she and Onee-Sama sometimes played a little fast and loose with the rules of their own Dorm, so she figured Onee-Sama wouldn't take that as hard enough proof to justify shocking the Trog into a charred heap and wiping her hands off him forevermore. And since she wasn't observing this on Judgement time, she couldn't really in good conscience bring the Trog to task for it with a written citation either. It was very tempting, but Kuroko told herself that it wasn't worth tipping off the Trog to the trouble she was going to get him in. She wanted to build an air tight case, one that even Onee-Sama would not be able to refute, no matter how infatuated by the bastard she was.

Time passed slowly with little of excitement happening. The silver haired girl sat on the bed and watched TV, first her show, then apparently the news, then flipping channels with an air of irritated boredom. She petted a small calico kitten from time to time, though the kitten seemed content to nap at her side or on her lap for the most part. Kuroko kept expecting the girl to take out her phone to browse the internet, since there was obviously nothing on the TV she wanted to watch, but the girl defied expectations for a modern day teenager and either resisted the urge to become engrossed in her phone, or did not have it on her. It was boring to just sit and watch like this when nothing was happening, but Kuroko reminded herself over and over again that she was doing this for her Onee-Sama, and that it was very important to herself as well. She hadn't even expected to discover the roommate so quickly, on her very first night of surveillance, after all.

After several hours, with the sun nearly touching the horizon, and after she'd donned her gloves and muffler to help deal with the encroaching chill, the Trog finally came slinking back home to his lair. She didn't see him at first directly... the angle on the roof showed most of the common room/bedroom, but the kitchen nook and the main door were out of view. She knew when he got home though by the way the silver hair girl reacted, her whole body posture and expression becoming happy and animated as she turned to yell an exuberant greeting to the arriving Trog. _I guess I have to grant that whatever he else he is, he does seem to have a way with the ladies._ Kuroko thought to herself grudgingly. She didn't know silver hair's story, but she could tell that the Trog was quite important to the other girl, and she clearly thought of him in a very positive light, judging by her actions. _Just like Onee-Sama... no, don't think such things! Onee-Sama is deceived by this boy, she doesn't know the real him!_

The Trog himself came into view moments later, dressed in his school uniform, looking tired and a bit sweaty, as if he'd been running around the city again, doing who knew what. Clearly getting into trouble of some sort though, as the silver hair girl's attitude changed from one of welcoming to one of obvious scolding, as the Trog acquired a sheepish expression as the silver hair girl gesticulated at him and paced back and forth in clear exasperation. Perhaps her taste in men wasn't as excerable as Kuroko first estimated... the silver haired girl was clearly familiar with the Trog's usual shenanigans, and was taking him to task for keeping her waiting and bored at home by herself. They talked for a bit after resolving their little domestic dispute, and Kuroko took more photos. There were no inappropriate acts yet, but she was vigilant all the same.

The trog sat down at the low table by the bed and took out paper and pencils from his school bag, and Kuroko realized she was observing the phenomenon known as "homework". She had heard about it from Uiharu and Saten too of course, but Tokiwadai didn't force it's students to waste time with obvious busy-work or enforced studying. If you went to Tokiwadai, it was assumed that you were there because you had the natural talent and drive to succeed, without requiring the school to force you to study. If you didn't want to learn, didn't put in the time and effort on your own, then you would slip in the Academic standards and eventually be expelled from the school... and there were no take-backs on that. If you wanted the education, power development and social networking that Tokiwadai provided, then you had to work your ass off for it, and nobody would prod you if you started falling behind, except maybe your friends. Laziness and academic incompetence were failings that other schools might tolerate, but never Tokiwadai.

The Trog seemed to have trouble with his homework, both in the subject matter, which clearly frustrated him, causing him to spend most of the time clutching his head or pulling his hair and muttering to himself, and in the way he handled it. Kuroko didn't know much about homework, but she did know the whole point was to do it outside of school and then return it to your teacher for evaluation on the designated due date. And part of doing that, presumably, was to return the homework sheets themselves in good condition. The Trog was struggling with that... several times a pencil snapped in his hand, smearing or even ripping the paper sheet he was working on. Kuroko might have thought it was the legendary "misfortune" he liked to mouth off about, except it kept happening over and over again, and no one could be that unlucky. Luck might or might not be a real thing, no one had proven or disproved it, but assuming it really worked on random probability, it was impossible for it to always come up with bad results like what she was seeing. He was just careless and incompetent, and refused to admit it.

 _And lazy too..._ Kuroko added with a mental sneer, as she watched the Trog eventually give up on his work, leaving more than half of it undone, and most of what was done ripped and smudged and messed up. _Seriously, Onee-Sama, how can THIS be attractive to you? If he can't even devote himself to his own homework, how can you think he is capable of devoting himself to more important things? Like you and your happiness? He has no motivational drive, never accepts responsibility for his failures by blaming it all on bad luck, can't keep himself out of trouble for even a single day! Not to mention cheats on you with another young girl! Though is it cheating if they aren't actually going out? No... no, it it is. Onee-Sama admitted she loves this Trog. For him to be spending time with another girl like this is definitely adultery of some fashion!_

The silver haired girl seemed to be complaining yet again, about what Kuroko could not tell, and she mentally adjusted her image of the girl once more. _Maybe she's more a whiny bitchy sort than a stern and disciplinarian sort. She does seem pretty noisy, and I haven't seen him do anything wrong so far. I guess she might just be lonely after spending all day in his room alone except for the cat, but its not like she's locked in there. She could go out and do stuff, for that matter she must have her own school to keep her occupied some of the time..._ Kuroko frowned. She didn't know how Theology schools ordered their curriculum and school hours. Surely though, the girl couldn't have been home alone for that long, just a couple hours at most. _A couple hours without Onee-Sama is certainly a trial at times, but I bear it when I need to. Being deprived of the Trog for such a short time can't be THAT much of a hardship, can it?_

After a short time, the Trog seemed to give in to the silver haired girl's badgering and disappeared from Kuroko's view, heading back towards the kitchen, clearly starting to make dinner for them. _At least he has some domestic utility then._ Kuroko grudgingly acknowledged. Onee-Sama was not domestic in the slightest, and though given ample opportunity, had never used the Tokiwadai dorm kitchens like some students did to prepare their own meals and snacks, instead relying on the school cafeteria and maid service to source her breakfasts and lunches during school days. Kuroko herself was able to cook, but did not prefer it. She was not talented at it, and while edible, her food was rarely delicious. Certainly not worthy of serving to Onee-Sama, despite the occasional urge to try. Doctoring her own food with aphrodisiacs to help jump start the mood would be much easier than doing so to order in or take out food, without Onee-Sama noticing, after all.

She had prepared for her own sustenance as well, though it was in the form of granola bars and a sports drink. Nothing fancy, and while sweet, not particularly tasty either. Simply fuel to keep her body warm and mind keen while on her stake-out. At length, long after she had finished her own bare repast, the Trog returned to the table bearing large plates of what looked like some form of stir fry with a thick green sauce, over rice. Kuroko wasn't sure what it was, but the silver hair girl pounced on it like she was starving, and rapidly began inhaling the food. And that was no hyperbole, the girl seemed capable of chewing and swallowing while also somehow breathing, as she shoveled food into her mouth, cleaning a plate that would have lasted Kuroko ten or twenty minutes in only two or three minutes! And that only because she stopped to chat and drink every now and then! Incredibly, the silver haired girl then got up and returned to the kitchen, and came back with her plate piled even higher with food than before, which she then began shoveling into her mouth like she was facing a seven year famine!

 _That is disgusting..._ Kuroko felt ill, watching the other girl pour food down her gullet like some kind of ravenous farm animal being fattened up for slaughter. The girl seemed to have very little in the way of table manners, talking with her mouth full, scarfing down food with no regard to grace or refinement, swigging from her drink like an alcoholic downing shots of whiskey, and gesticulating with her eating utensils in hand, throwing small bits of food everywhere. She ate like a particularly unruly and careless elementary schooler might, one who hadn't yet matured too far past the bib and spoon fed stage. The Trog hardly seemed to notice or care, though that was because he was a boy... Kuroko knew boys were by nature crude and unrefined after all, especially around food... or because he had his mind on other matters, she could not decide. Clearly the Trog was distracted by something... he was barely picking at his own dinner, while silver hair was coming back with THIRDS! _Where does she PUT it all?_ Kuroko wondered, aghast.

Silver hair seemed to pick up on the Trog's mood at last, now that the blazing edge of her hunger had apparently been blunted enough to allow her rational thought once more, and they spent some time conversing back and forth. Kuroko could not lip read, but she was a fairly good judge of facial expression. Sometime was bothering the Trog, and he was clearly talking to silver hair for advice, at first sheepish as he explained his problem, then wincing at whatever reply she initially gave, before explaining more with a resolute look on his face. Silver hair seemed to be in shock or displeasure of some sort, given how her shoulders were hunched, but perhaps it might have been something else as well. Certainly it caught Kuroko off guard when silver hair suddenly launched herself over the table, tackling the Trog as she began biting him all over the face and upper body, both of them flailing and wriggling around on the floor in a fashion she could only describe as wanton and erotic!

Kuroko was so flabbergasted by this sudden and inappropriate turn of events, she almost forgot to take pictures of it! _This is it! This is IT! This is all the proof I need to show Onee-Sama what a worthless, no good, CHEATER the Trog is! She's back home, thinking thoughts of noble love about this piece of scum, and here he is, rolling around on the floor with a nearly underage girl, making out and trading erotic love bites!_ Kuroko thought savagely to herself, taking picture after picture after picture. She again wondered about the age of the silver haired girl... was she even old enough to be legally engaging in such acts even with another teenager? Then again, if she was a Theology student, perhaps her standards were different. Kuroko didn't know too much about religion... it was all outdated superstition and make believe to her eyes... but she did remember hearing at some point that some religions still practiced child marriage, so perhaps this silver haired girl had been raised in such a culture! That didn't make it any less disgusting of course... the Trog had to be two or thee years older than his companion after all, as he was a year older than Onee-Sama!

Turning around, breathing rapidly with her excitement at gaining the proof she had always known would be there, Kuroko slumped down against the roof edge wall, holding her camera in one hand as she tried to regain her equilibrium. Part of her wanted to teleport over to the Trog's balcony, burst through the door and confront the bastard about what he was doing, see him grovel and cower as he realized his carefully plotted villainous scheme to seduce Oncee-Sama was crashing down around his ears, because of her righteous actions! But not. That might lead to a confrontation, and the camera might be damaged. Better not to risk it. Better to let him think he was still safe... and then confront him with Onee-Sama in tow, and watch as Onee-Sama dispensed her own righteous electric justice upon him! Her other hand touched the rooftop she was sitting on, and slide backward a little as she continued to slump, starting to giggle uncontrollably with victorious glee.

Her giggles stopped as her hand actually slid into a little nook under the parapet wall, which she had not noticed earlier. Her fingers touched a solid object wrapped in some sort of heavy cloth weatherproofing fabric, and Kuroko felt the dimensions of it, wondering what it was. It seemed quite long and seemed reasonably heavy. She turned around, placing the camera down on the ground by her feet, and reached both hands under into the nook, and dragged the item out into her view. It was shapeless though roughly tubular when covered in the fabric, and she began unwrapping it, wondering what someone might have hidden or stored in such a place and then forgotten about. Her Judgement senses were tingling... this was almost certainly some form of contraband, and she could not in good conscience leave it where it could be found or retrieved by whoever had hidden it. She wasn't on the clock, but she could still turn it in as a concerned citizen.

She unwrapped the final layer and suddenly nothing seemed funny anymore. Kuroko stared down at what she had unwrapped, her brain locking up for a moment as she tried to make sense of it. She recognized it, if not in specific at least in general. It was a gun, disassembled but she could clearly make out all the parts. A rifle of some sort. It looked a little like some of the sniper rifles that Anti-Skill's armed response teams trained with for dealing with barricaded hostage situations. But rougher, cruder, like it was home made rather than factory built. It still looked quite functional and deadly though, when it was rebuilt. It was bolt action, and there was a single bullet affixed to the bolt with a piece of tape. Illegal firearms were not unknown in the city, though they were very uncommon in her experience, but those were without exception just handguns smuggled in from outside the city walls. This rifle was something else, made within the city, and then disassembled, bundled up and left hidden in this one spot, with a single bullet.

Kuroko tried to imagine what someone might use a hidden disassembled rifle and single bullet for... aside from the obvious, that being it was a tool for assassination. But why place it here? Who was possibly worth assassinating that lived in a Highschool dorm? She considered the sight lines from her position again. The target would almost have to be in the Trog's apartment building somewhere. And if she thought about it, the angle and distance from her current position to the pillows of the Trog's bed were well within rifle range for any competent gunman. And incompetent gunmen, in her experience, did not disassemble a home made rifle and single bullet and hide them in a sniper perch ahead of time, they preferred to brandish their weapons wildly and fire off shot after shot without aiming at all. The only reasonable conclusion she could make, with the knowledge she had... the Trog was known for getting in trouble, and had recently done so with a Terrorist group to her certain knowledge... was that the Trog had to be the assassin's target!

And while the world WOULD be a better place without the Trog in it, in her opinion, she could never condone murder, especially of a fellow student. However much a piece of scum the Trog was, and he was setting new low bars for that every time she saw him, he was still a resident of the city and thus someone she had sworn to protect as a member of Judgement. That Onee-Sama wanted her to protect him was just icing on the cake. By confiscating this dangerous weapon, she could save the Trog from harm, without having to interact with him to do it! Onee-Sama would be proud and happy, and the Trog would never have to know. Kuroko smiled, and started to bend down to wrap up the disassembled gun in its cloth for transport. The action might have saved her life, as a hurled brick that she had not seen coming in the slightest, struck the top of her head, cushioned slightly by the hat and her hair, rather than striking the side of her head right below and behind the ear, where it might have caused spinal or lower skull fractures.

Instead Kuroko saw stars, falling sideways with a cry of surprise and pain, feeling blood pour down the side of her face from where her temple was gashed open, her head ringing and vision swirling as she skated on the verge of passing out. She could feel the rooftop, cold against her cheek, and unconsciousness beckoned sweetly, but she struggled against it. Her head was fuzzy, her vision was dim and blood kept flowing freely from her wound, but she could not afford to go down! She ehard at last the sound of stealthy footsteps dashing towards her from the side, a dark shape breaking from behind one air conditioner unit and hustling towards her. How her assailant managed to sneak up on her, she did not know, but what she did know was that if she succumbed to unconsciousness now, it was unlikely she would ever awake again! Kuroko pushed herself upright, swaying dizzily, and reached for her darts, before realizing they were stuck inside her pants, out of easy reach... she had not anticipated needing them during the stake-out. Things were already not going well in this fight...

xxxx

Leonid raced across the night darkened roof, holding a short metal wrench in one hand, cocked back to swing forward and club the mysterious observer who had first appropriated his secret observation spot of one of his primary targets, and then compromised it by discovering his hidden rifle. It was either terrible luck, or deliberate enemy action, and either way would make future surveillance and potential assassination of Touma Kamijou much more difficult, as he could no longer use this spot. Even if he disposed of the intruder, and he intended to, as no witnesses were a good policy for any assassin, he could not rest assured that they weren't an agent for some group or faction, and that the knowledge of his post wouldn't be more widely known. The knowledge of the rifle too, but at least he could take that with him, and either use it again later or dispose of it as circumstances dictated.

He was dressed in his usual nondescript clothes, but had pulled his knit black wool face mask down across his features to disguise himself once he had approached his observation point and realized that someone else was already there. Given the time of night and the season, there was no good reason for anyone to be up there for innocent reasons, and especially in that particular position. He was just lucky his custom footwear had stealth soles built in that prevented him from making any noise on the way up the fire escape stairs, or doubtless it would be the enemy laying an ambush for him rather than the other way around! The intruder had been engrossed in observing and perhaps photographing something, perhaps even Touma Kamijou, which had allowed Leonid to sneak around behind them unnoticed.

As part of establishing the observation post in the first place, he had thoroughly scouted the entire roof, inspecting it for any possible hiding places or objects which could be used as weapons. He did not disturb anything he found, in case someone else visited the roof and noticed it, he simply noted its position in case it became useful later. As it had tonight. As a matter of course he carried no weapons with him on the streets, to avoid being discovered through bad luck, such as random Anti-Skill or Judgement encounter. But he could not be sure that the intruder was not armed, and he couldn't allow them to take the rifle with them... despite his precautions, it might contain DNA evidence linking it to him. And that would be very bad. So he could not retreat either. So he scrounged up the wrench, and a chunk of brick, and slowed started creeping up on the intruder while they continued their observations.

Whoever it was, was clearly an amateur, paying little to no attention to their background, focusing on their target to exclusion, snapping photo after photo. It was dark enough that he could not tell if they were male or female, old or young, as they were wearing baggy clothes of nondescript colors, just like Leonid himself was. Observing Kamijou at night was not common, but in the wake of the failure to recover Dr. Otake and his data the day before, his superiors were feeling extra paranoid and had ordered doubled observation of as many of the primary targets as possible. Kamijou was the easiest of those, so while he was still recovering from the scrapes and bruises suffered in the brawl with ITEM and the strange monster-girl at Otake's building, he had decided to check in on the boy. Only to discover that he was compromised. Fortunately he was fixing that right now.

The intruder had barely avoided an instant kill strike... a brick, pitched as hard as he could, that struck them just behind and to the rear of the ear, would cause a fracture that would sever the brainstem and top of the spinal cord, leading to paralysis and death in short order. Bad luck again, or good luck for them. It happened. Field work was inherently unpredictable, despite his best efforts... luck would always play a role. A truly competent agent such as he considered himself to be, allowed for luck and compensated for its vagaries, so that an outsider would believe that luck never entered into the equation at all. The intruder had avoided death, but had taken a serious wound to the top of their head, knocking off their hat, exposing a wealth of tawny reddish hair, which soon became much more red as blood poured from a deep gash in the intruder's head, as they were knocked headlong onto the roof by the impact, stunned and disoriented.

The intruder started to rise again, swaying and clearly impaired by their injury, their hands darting to their thighs in a way that made Leonid tense instinctively... he knew a reach for a weapon when saw one. But the intruder came up empty handed, perhaps confused by their head wound, which continued to bleed profusely. Getting closer, Leonid saw that the intruder was much smaller than him, more like a child than a grown adult. An Esper? In this city, it was wise to assume so. But they were hurt, dazed, disoriented. Concentrating on calculating for their ability, whatever it might be, would be difficult. And he wasn't going to give them time to recover! Leonid charged forward across the last few feet of roof, and swung his wrench up high and then brought it down aimed at the intruder's skull, aiming to cave the whole thing in if need be!

The intruder staggered backwards at the last moment, the tip of the wrench just grazing their shoulder and collarbone, tugging at the clothes, maybe bruising or cutting the skin, but not breaking anything. Leonid follow up with a thrusting knee, this time connecting, smashing into his foe's midriff, causing them to "whuff" as air and spittle left their mouth in a rush, their feet actually coming off the rooftop as they flew backwards, landing hard on their back and butt. They were surprisingly light, either a young male child or a petite teenage girl, Leonid realized, as he continued after them. First rule of Anti-Esper combat, assuming you were unlucky enough to fight them unarmed and face to face... never let them have time to think. An Esper's most potent asset was always their brain, as it was the key to their power. Stop them from thinking, keep them confused and disoriented, and you could win, in most cases. Fail to do so and you invited severe harm or death upon yourself in short order. That led to the second rule... always target the head as much as possible, to reduce their cognition through concussion damage.

Though winded, the intruder was clearly still game, rolling to the side to gain distance, their head wound leaving splashes of blood on the ground with every movement, their whole side of their face and much of their clothes damp and slick with the blood. It looked worse than it was, but Leonid also knew it was no minor injury. It would need more than just a band-aid to fix. The blood loss would add up, especially with a small and younger target, and their vision was partly obscured as well. He doubted this fight would last much more than a few seconds longer. The intruder had done well to avoid being killed in the first exchange, but wounded as they were, they had no chance of turning the fight around. For one of the few times in his life though, Leonid found himself having underestimated his opponent, as just before he reached them with wrench already swinging for the side of their skull once more, they flat out vanished, leaving him staggering himself for a moment as he compensated for the missed attack. Bracing himself for a counter, Leonid quickly realized that the intruder had fled, instead of retaliating.

That was smart. With some sort of invisibility, rapid movement or perhaps teleportation ability, they might be able to cause some injury if they stuck around, but odds were they would lose the fight and their life in the process. The better move was withdrawal, as he could not chase them through the streets, even as relatively empty as they were at this hour. Perhaps they weren't as amateurish as all that, maybe just inexperienced, but with good training. Well, either way, he had to clean up as much as possible. He gathered up his oilcloth full of rifle parts, and slung it under one arm. He saw that the intruder had left their camera behind in the confusion, and snagged that as well. Perhaps analyzing the pictures would allow him to discern what the other person had been there that night in pursuit of. With his identity still hopefully obscured, and all evidence in hand, Leonid headed for the street at a run, speed rather than stealth being his friend now. He could hide in a bolthole once he got a sufficient distance away, then report in to see what his superiors had to say.

Things were definitely heating up in this city recently. He just wished he knew why...

xxxx

 **Outside Tokiwadai External Dorms, 30 minutes later**

 _I think I'm going to pass out..._ Kuroko thought muzzily, as she leaned against the hedges that bounded the Tokiwadai External Dorm, her beloved home, where her soft bed and softer Onee-Sama were waiting, less than fifty meters away in direct line distance. Normally from this distance she would just teleport directly into her room, choosing to land either on her own bed if Onee-Sama was in, or Onee-Sama's if she was not, as Onee-Sama's bed just felt softer and more comfortable to Kuroko. That would bypass the hedges, the lawn, the security cameras, the night activated motion sensors, the patrolling Dorm Mistress, and any students awake late at night. Teleporting home was the definition of discreet, unless she appeared during a room inspection or something like that. Unfortunately, she didn't feel up to teleporting a single spike from one hand to the other, much less her whole body any distance at all at the moment!

She'd managed to mostly staunch the bleeding by using her muffler as a makeshift bandage and applying hard pressure, but it had taken a while, and she knew she was pretty severely anemic at the moment, judging from how light headed and dizzy and tired she was. The concussion she had wasn't making things easier, causing her head to throb and her brain to feel like mush. Her skull didn't seem to be broken, except maybe a hairline fracture, thankfully, but she was a mess. Her clothes were soaked with blood, her face mostly wiped off but still there were spots she'd missed. She'd kept to back alleys almost the whole way back just because she knew she'd cause an alarm if anyone saw her on the street. Judgement or Anti-Skill would be called, and in her current condition, she was in no shape to evade them.

They would take her to the hospital, which was probably where she ought to be, in all reasonable sense. Serious head wounds were nothing to play around with, especially as an Esper! She might lose access to some or even all of her Power if her brain was damaged enough to reduce her calculation abilities. But maybe it was the concussion talking, but Kuroko did not want to risk the hospital. She would be quickly identified, and Tokiwadai would be informed. Not only would she get in trouble for being out of uniform and out past curfew, they'd find out she'd gotten injured too, and she would have to explain where and why and how, and that would mean betraying her Onee-Sama's confidence. Not to mention how Onee-Sama herself would freak out upon finding out that Kuroko was injured while performing a favor for her! Causing guilt to Onee-Sama was the last thing she wanted to do.

Of course that did raise the question of what she was going to do right now. Even if she could get back into the dorm unnoticed, there was no way she'd be able to hide this wound from Onee-Sama. Even if she got into the bathroom unnoticed, this wasn't something she could just stick a band-aid on and pretend she'd slipped in the shower. She needed a serious bandage wrap, and maybe actual first aid or doctor's assistance. But in her mentally deteriorated state, she had only thought about getting home, getting safe, as soon as possible. She hadn't even remember to grab the camera with all her evidence in it... and had only realized that shortly before arriving back at the Dorm! It was surely all gone now, and she was in no mind nor physical state to go back and check. That was extremely disappointing, but she didn't have the will to worry about it now. Everything she had was focused into keeping her on her feet and not passing out on the street.

Kuroko was still pondering her dilemma, feeling herself slowly growing weaker all the time, when a window on the Dorm's third story suddenly opened up. It was one of the corner rooms, the one with windows facing the street, rather than one of the rooms racing the internal courtyard, like her own second floor room was. A girl with pale skin and hair as red as Kuroko's blood stuck her head out the window, and glanced around with an odd look on her face, half curious, half almost predatory. Kuroko sagged, as she dimly recognized Claudia, who she faintly remembered mentioning at one point was getting a room in the same Dorm as Kuroko earlier that day, saying she wanted to experience the whole city, not just the School Garden. She didn't know whether to feel relief or panic, at the sight of the new girl. Potentially this was help of course, but she didn't want to get Claudia involved in this mess either, whatever it was! But she was in no state to dodge or hide, and Claudia spotted her almost immediately.

What the red haired, ultra-rich, but down-to-earth girl did next shocked Kuroko, causing her to stagger forward a half step as Claudia took a running dive out of her window, leaping incredibly far, clearing the entire lawn of the dorm, and the surrounding hedge cleanly, before landing in a slight crouch, one hand touching the pavement, a few meters away, as if simply jumping down from a ladder. _Oh yeah. Physical Enhancement level 3, right..._ Kuroko reminded herself as she sagged against the hedges, fighting simply to keep her eyes open, as her new friend turned and approached her. _Her expression is weird..._ Kuroko thought, as Claudia examined her wordlessly, looking both concerned and somehow hungry at the same time. Probably the concussion and blood loss talking though... Kuroko was surprised she was as lucid as she was, actually.

"You are a troublesome girl, aren't you Shirai?" Claudia said, smiling broadly. There was something odd with her teeth too, but Kuroko knew she couldn't trust her senses right then. She barely managed a slight smile and a weak chuckle in response.

"Well let's get you inside then. I assume you were loitering out here because you don't want anyone in the Dorm to know what state you're in. We can use my room, its private enough, to get a look at you properly." Claudia said, ignoring Kuroko's weakly whispered words of protest, stepping forward and picking Kuroko up in a princess carry. Kuroko was starting to feel cold... she couldn't even feel the warmth of Claudia's body, and she knew she wasn't going to stay conscious much longer. There was a sensation of movement, of flying, and then she was being maneuvered through Claudia's window while the other girl clung one handed to the side of the building with total nonchalance, like she did it all the time. Hefting Kuroko one handed, Claudia laid her down on her own bed, careless of the blood and mess.

"... roommate...?" Kuroko asked softly, feeling a little better to by lying down on something soft, and realizing that something about the room was off. Tokiwadai's dorms had both single and double rooms, but all the single rooms were in the bigger dorm within the School Garden. All the rooms in the external Dorm were doubles, both because of space requirements, and also attempts at accountability. If one roommate was breaking the rules, the other had incentive to stop them, because would be punished equally if one was caught breaking rules.

"I got a special exception. I don't deal well with unknown people in my private spaces." Claudia said with a shrug and a smug smile. "Now let's get you out of those clothes so I can see how badly you're hurt." Claudia immediately began to do as she said, ignoring Kuroko's weak wriggling, all but tearing the clothes from her body, using her enhanced strength to rend the cloth apart until Kuroko wore only her tiny and lacy bra and string type panties. Claudia paused a moment, taking in the sight of Kuroko, nearly nude except for minimal lingerie and blood spatters, lying on her bed, before shaking herself violently all over for some reason. Kuroko thought she heard Claudia mutter something about "so tasty looking", and would have blushed if she had the spare blood to do it. It was nice to know that she still looked good even when beat up, even if Claudia wasn't the girl she wanted to hear that most from.

"Seems we share a taste in unmentionables as well. I never would have expected such mature tastes from a girl like you." Claudia commented with a positively wicked smile, as she picked Kuroko up again and carried her into the bathroom, running some hot water and soaking some towels to begin clearing the rest of the blood from her body, so she could get a better look at the gash in Kuroko's head. She was both rough and gentle, and despite the situation, Kuroko could not help but feel just the slightest hint of erotic tension in the way Claudia was cleaning her body so thoroughly. She really must have been loopy from the concussion, to even pick up hints of such a thing given all the blood and stuff, which wasn't exactly kinky to most people. "That is a nasty gash. You're lucky your skull didn't crumple. You are hard headed in more than one way it seems." Claudia noted. "But you really ought to see a doctor. I can't bandage this, not without turning your whole head into a mummy, and that would kind of be obvious."

"... Onee... Sama... can't... find out..." Kuroko pleaded, not wanting to have come this far, actually making it into the dorm building, only to end up in the hospital after all! She looked around the bathroom, and noticed something odd. "No... mirror...?" She asked in confusion, as the bathroom was clearly missing one of its most useful features. That was a major customization of the room, and that was not normally allowed in the Dorms. Even Onee-Sama as a level 5 wasn't allowed to substantially modify her room.

"Another special exception. I can't stand mirrors. They have a way of showing you what you really are, when you least want to know it. Call it a sort of phobia if you will. I will not abide them in my presence. I have special permission from the school to use a private bathroom to change before and after gym, so I don't have to use the communal locker room, for instance." Claudia shrugged carelessly before sighing. "But to stay on topic, I understand you don't want the girl you love to see you like this, but if you don't get that head wound treated, not only could it threaten your life if it gets infected, it might leave a nasty scar on your pretty little face. And that would be a tragedy, I assure you. Going to the hospital is the smart thing to do here."

"Please... no..." Kuroko all but begged, her eyes trying to communicate what she lacked the energy to speak.

"Fine. I have another solution. A special medicine that will heal you right up. Bide a moment." Claudia sounded a bit petulant, but rose and left the bathroom, and Kuroko heard her bustling about in the main room for a couple minutes, her eyes starting to droop as her injury and blood loss finally started to overwhelm her and drag her towards sleep and recuperation. Claudia returned before everything went dark though, and splashed some cold water on Kuroko's face to wake her up again. Claudia unceremoniously thrust a small glass vial filled partway with a deep crimson liquid under Kuroko's nose. It smelled metallic and salty and potent, but not in a bad way. It was rich and full, and familiar somehow, but Kuroko couldn't quite place it. Claudia tilted her head back and poured the medicine into Kuroko's open mouth. It tasted like it smelled, but a hundred times as intense, and was oddly chilled, a slug of weirdly comfortable ice sliding into her belly. Darkness rose up and consumed her immediately afterward.

"You can spend the night with me. I suppose I will restrain myself in the interests of the future." Claudia sighed as she cradled the unconscious girl in her arms. "In the morning you will wake, as hale and hearty as ever in your life, perhaps even moreso. Take a care not to develop a taste for that particular tonic though, young lady. It is not yet time for you to indulge in that particular vice to your heart's content. You aren't ready, no matter how delicious you may be. You will be a dish best served with the proper preparations and seasonings." Claudia stood and returned to her bed, whose sheets she had replaced, and laid Kuroko down on it, and laid down beside her, propped on one arm, to watch over her and think throughout the rest of the beautiful night...

xxxx

 **Judgement 177th Branch, October 4th, Afternoon**

The office was quiet, only the sound of the heating system and the hum of computers doing their thing, with occasionally rapid taps of fingers on keys, disturbing the silence. This was an abnormal state for this particular office, as it usually bustled with activity, either with its three resident officers, or their various friends that liked to stop by and chat and hang out, in clear defiance of Judgement Office rules. But since their branch was so small, Konori allowed the visitors and looked the other way, because they livened the place up, and were all friends anyway. And sometimes helped out in various cases to boot. But for today, right now, only Uiharu was present. Konori was off in meetings regarding the state of the City wide security alert that was still ongoing, and Shirai was involved with activities at her school. Misaka was off in town somewhere, perhaps seeking out a certain boy she liked, or perhaps just having a normal afternoon. Saten definitely was out prowling the streets, looking for rumors about Magic. Edasaki and Harue had indicated they might stop by later though.

Uiharu was enjoying the solitude to be honest. Ever since she'd slipped up and talked about her encounter with Joule-san to the others during the shopping date with Misaka two days before, Saten had been merciless about alternatively teasing her about it, and probing her for more information. Her best friend was just like a meddlesome old lady when it came to potential romances... not that she considered Joule-san in that way at all of course! Saten liked to play the matchmaker, though Uiharu could not fault her intentions at least, she didn't appreciate having Saten's nose planted so firmly in her own business. If it wasn't for Misaka's request, she doubted she would have any peace at all... not at school, at work, or at home! Though speaking of Misaka's request, that was actually what Uiharu was working on herself at the moment.

When not assisting her fellow officers on patrol or at the scene of crimes with command and control support, Uiharu's primary duties within the office were based around protecting the city's various data networks, at least those of relatively lower security level, such as Judgement's own internal network, and that of her own school and a few others. This she accomplished through creating passive programming firewalls, and also through occasional active counter-hacks of especially determined and talented hackers, discovering their internet address and footprint and then sending it on to the Anti-Skill cyber-crimes unit for investigation and prosecution. She was very good at it, famous even within certain circles, and sometimes she wondered why her Esper ability couldn't have been something related to digital technology. She understood that with near instinctive genius. Physics and thermodynamics, not so much. She could have been a level 4, maybe even a Level 5, if she had some sort of Electromaster variant related to digital manipulation. Or so she dreamed sometimes.

Back in reality, she had to make do with Thermal Hand, and with just having a natural talent for computers and internet security. At least her ability allowed her to overclock her processors without melting them, at least for short term, high intensity work. She wasn't doing any of that today though. Today was low level searches, data sifting through the vast archives of Judgement and Anti-Skill, as well as a few low level, mostly automated intrusions into school databases and the like. She was researching the boy named Touma Kamijou, the boy Misaka loved. He was not at all like she had thought the sort of guy Misaka would like to be. He was not ugly, but hardly handsome or beautiful in her eyes. And he was about as far from a Prince as could be. His family were lower middle class, solidly low level white collar types, and Kamijou himself was a Level 0, meaning he had a very small living stipend from the city, just barely enough to afford the necessities. On the surface of things, he hardly stood out as a citizen of the city, in appearance, ability, or background.

According to his school file, he was actually not a terrible student, at least when it came to normal school subjects. However in Esper Studies, which was over 40 percent of his total grade, as was common for a school in Academy City, he was flunking badly, with a near 0 percent completion rating for homework and tests regarding that subject. So as whole, his grades were terrible, just barely above flunking entirely and being held back a year. If it weren't for constant remedial class lessons and the extra credit they granted, he would definitely be held back a year. And Uiharu was amazed to see that this wasn't a recent development either... his whole school history looked like that. Bright in normal measure, but absolutely incapable as an Esper. His Esper grades made Saten look like a genius, and she passed her tests as often as not by cribbing from Uiharu's notes!

It was bizarre... normally a student who was skilled at normal subjects, especially the sciences and maths, would be able to apply that knowledge with Esper Studies, even if they were not, for whatever reason, able to use them for their own ability. But Touma Kamijou appeared unable to transfer his normal knowledge into Esper applications. And his Ability Power tests were also bizarre... he didn't even register an AIM Diffusion field as far as the tests could determine. And Uiharu could have sworn she heard that even humans who hadn't gone through ANY power development still had a very tiny AIM field. How could he not have any at all while undergoing the Power Development program? And why wasn't he being the focus of a lot more research? The facts were there in his files, which were easily enough accessed. It didn't seem to be a secret, or if it was, it was something else that was being hidden.

But aside from that bizarre note, he appeared normal enough. A year older than Misaka, two years older than herself, which was within appropriate limits for a teenage relationship, in Uiharu's opinion. So why was Misaka so interested in him? Why had she fallen in love with someone so mundane? Not that there was anything wrong with mundane, it just didn't seem to Uiharu like there was anything about Touma Kamijou that would have brought him to Misaka's attention, or kept her attention for long. That was why she was looking in Judgement and Anti-Skill databases as well. While she waited for that to compile her results, she was also running a covert facial recognition pattern search throughout the surveillance cameras of the city, having set it to key on the face of Albert Joule.

She could not help but think about the day they had spent together, glossing over the embarrassing beginning, which she had still managed to conceal from Saten in terms of details, thankfully. She had written it off as a pleasant but weird encounter at the time, but then that very night Misaka started talking about Magic as if it were real. And while Misaka could be strange, she wasn't a liar, nor was she easily taken in by cons or deceptions, mostly. If she said that Magic might exist, as hard as Uiharu found that to believe, maybe there was something to that. Especially with Albert Joule saying the same thing to her earlier in the day, and attempting to prove it to her, though without success. That was definitely an odd coincidence, but it could be worth looking him up again and talking in more detail about it, maybe even with Misaka around.

She also wanted to make sure he wasn't popping up on any law enforcement radars. He was an illegal presence in the city after all, if a harmless one. But not all Judgement members would make that distinction. And nobody in Anti-Skill would. Quite what she could do if he was in trouble, she did not quite know... short of shorting out cameras and jamming communication lines to actively interfere in attempts to arrest him, which would be a felony in and of itself! And while she liked him and felt he wasn't dangerous, she wasn't going to commit felonies for him certainly! Still, it would be nice to know where he was, and what he was up to, and that he wasn't getting into too much trouble. Which was just being a responsible Judgement officer of course... it didn't mean she held any special feelings for a boy she had known for a few hours and met by accident!

 _Oh no... am I acting like Misaka?_ Uiharu thought with mild consternation. _Am I denying what others think I'm obviously feeling? Surely not. It's impossible to gain feelings for someone after hanging out with them for just one day. He may have piqued my interest, but that is it. Interest is not infatuation and it is not a crush! Though I guess it could lead to one of those, but I am definitely still at the interest stage!_ She felt a heat in her cheeks which her Thermal Hand refused to control, and sighed in frustration. She was at that age, when interest in boys started happening. She just had thought it would be more clear cut than this. Spying a hot and princely young man on the street or in the park, or at school, and swooning over him, love at first sight, and a storybook romance to follow! That was how it always happened in her dreams. Not this odd feeling of "interested but not sure why I'm interested or how much" sort of deal. Uiharu couldn't even articulate how she felt to herself, how could Saten think she knew what Uiharu was feeling? _Then again, Saten does have a nose for things like that... she did predict that Misaka had a boyfriend. Or at least a boy she liked, that was causing her to act all weird._

Her computer pinged at her to announce that it had completed its data sifting process, and she turned from her thoughts about the imponderables of emotion and teenage hormones, into the hard world of digital data, where she was much more comfortable. At least to begin with. The sheer amount of data though, even after her search programs had pared it down to just the most relevant criteria, was staggering. She'd never seen anyone with so many Judgement and Anti-Skill flags on their file, at least not anyone who wasn't a more or less permanent resident of the District 10 Reformatory! Most of the flags were for simple encounter and incident reports, the majority of which noted his involvement or presence at the scene of a crime, but that he was judged to be innocent, just a random unlucky bystander who got drawn into things. Occasionally he was noted as participating in brawls with delinquents, but again always as the victim, utilizing self defense, rather than aggression. But there were dozens of brawling flags, and at least a hundred total incidents, maybe more!

To the best of Uiharu's knowledge, that was more than even Misaka was involved in, and she was a Level 5 who was a bit of a troublemaker! Kamijou was a normal Level 0, just a guy, but he kept getting involved in all this trouble. Then she got to his hospital records, and nearly toppled over backwards in her chair. His hospital bills were HUGE! If it weren't for the vast majority of them being quietly picked up by the hospital itself for some reason, he would have been bankrupt a dozen times over by now! And the injuries themselves... he got beat half to death apparently on a regular basis! If it weren't for his school records, she might have thought he had some sort of self healing power that kept him alive through all this trauma, but he had no ability! There were even more serious incidents too. He'd temporarily lost an arm!? He'd been in explosions and had nearly his entire back laid open by some impact with a metal surface! And those were just a couple examples!

 _Looks like Misaka was right. Trouble does follow this guy around. Is that how they met, because they both get in trouble a lot, though not through their own fault? Misaka never actually did say when she first met him, come to think of it, or how._ Uiharu mused as she browsed through more of the data. She was surprised to see he had been in Seventh Mist when the Graviton Bomber incident had occurred and she herself had nearly been blown to pieces, along with a young elementary school girl, by a graviton bomb hidden inside a stuffed animal. Misaka had saved them both with her Railgun, blowing the bomb away and shielding them with her electric powers. But apparently Kamijou had been in the building at the time of the blast as well, having been reported as following Misaka into the building after it was evacuated, though he hadn't been hurt, thankfully. There was also a high number of incidents in which he was involved that also involved illegal intruders to the city. Something about the dates of Kamijou's hospital visits bothered her, and she went back over them, before finally hitting on it.

 _Several of his worst injuries came on days when Misaka was acting the most weird and worried about things. Did she know he was injured? More importantly, does she know how and why he was injured? He nearly died on a night when Shirai said Misaka never came home during the whole night. And then she was happy and normal again afterwards, like nothing had happened. Though that was when she decided to bake those cookies at Saten's house. And she told Saten that she was doing it to pay off a debt. Saten and I both agree that she was fibbing, because she's adorable about her feelings like that. But maybe she wasn't. Or at least, she was telling some of the truth, about it being a debt, just that wasn't her only reason. Clearly Kamijou was involved with something that night, along with Misaka. He nearly died, and she felt indebted to him for what happened. But what DID happen? What could cause Misaka of all people to feel so indebted to someone that she would make cookies for them... in secret?_ Uiharu frowned and decided to focus her attention on this discrepancy.

It wasn't strictly related to the search for Magic, but she was mostly hinging her hopes for that on finding Joule-san anyway. Figuring out why Misaka felt the way she did about Kamijou could be important, as Misaka certainly wouldn't explain it willingly. It was a little odd, perhaps, for Uiharu to be feeling protective of her Level 5 friend rather than the other way around, but given the sheer amount of trouble and chaos that seemed to surround Touma Kamijou on a regular basis, she at least wanted to know why Misaka had so much faith in him, so much so that she acted like she needed to prove her worth to him, rather than the other way around. She didn't get any bad feelings about Kamijou... he was unlucky, certainly, but clearly a good person, who just couldn't stop trying to help people and getting dragged into their problems. Kinda like Misaka herself.

Taking control of the data search programs herself, Uiharu began probing the day of the injury and several days before it. There was nothing particular of note, except for one Anti-Skill report, which had actually been filed by Touma Kamijou! The report said he had called in a panic to report a homicide of a student in a back alleyway. Anti-Skill had rolled out in force, but when they arrived there was no body or any other sign of homicide, in that area or any other nearby. The call was ruled a prank, one of the few negative flags placed on Kamijou's file. But Kamijou didn't seem like the pranking sort, and especially not something serious and unfunny like that. Uiharu called up the audio files of the original call to Anti-Skill and listened. Kamijou sounded horrified, sick, angry and grieving... she couldn't believe he was a good enough actor to get all that through so intensely just for a prank. He really believed he'd found someone dead in the alley... more, it sounded like it was someone he knew! But there had been no body, no crime scene at all...

 _Something doesn't add up here._ Uiharu thought, and decided to be a little daring. There were multiple discrete networks of security cameras throughout the city. Judgement had acess to many of them, and Anti-Skill had access to more, nearly all, but there were still a few private networks and so called "dark networks" that even Anti-Skill did not have regular access to. They did know where those systems were though, even if it was classified at the highest levels. She began a slow and careful probe into some of the dark network cameras in the area around the reported homicide, looking for where they had sent their archived data. Here she had a stroke of luck, as many of the dark network cameras in that area had belonged to research groups that had suddenly gone out of business shortly after the day Kamijou got hospitalized. Which was suspicious, but what was most relevant was that their security camera feeds were now cached on servers that weren't considered active use, and had mostly passive security, relying on the fact that most people didn't even know they existed to look for them to stay secure.

It took a good hour of concentrated, high intensity hacking, with occasional bursts of overclocking fueled by her Thermal Hand. But eventually Uiharu had opened a small data window into one of the dead servers, and siphoned off a couple gigabytes of video files. She didn't know what to take exactly, so she took snippets from several cameras, working fast so that her hack wasn't noticed. This was serious security she was getting through, even if it wasn't as high as it could have been. That prompted another realization, as Misaka had called Uiharu late one night a few days before Kamijou was injured, and reeled off a long alphanumeric string, and asked Uiharu what it was. And it had reminded Uiharu of the sort of password authentication keys used for S level security... the same as guarded the Board of Directors and their personal networks! At the time she had dismissed it as a mere oddity... Misaka wasn't crazy enough to hack the Board of Directors after all, that was asking to be arrested!

But maybe Misaka was crazy enough to do it. Or maybe she was in a bad situation and had no choice. She had seemed awful distraught in the days after that. Then she had seemed happy again for a short time, then immediately sad and distraught again, then Kamijou was injured, and then she was happy and normal again. More and more curious and strange. And Kamijou's homicide "prank" call had happened on the same night as he was hospitalized. And she now had camera feeds from that alley, which were protected behind firewalls only a little less strong than the Board of Directors used. _Maybe I should just forget this whole line of investigation. I'm getting chills down my spine._ Uiharu thought with a rush of common sense. _Then again, I already stole the data, so I might as well look at it. If anyone finds out, they'll assume I looked at it anyway, so I might as well get in trouble for actually doing it._ She swallowed hard and opened the first data file.

It was mostly empty, and she sighed in relief. Just a back alley, like thousands within the city. There was piles of trash along the sides, and it clearly hadn't seen a cleaning robot in months, maybe years, but it was just an alley. She'd built up some sort of weird possible conspiracy theory in her mind, but there was just this empty alley, that's all. She was just about to turn off the file and delete it, when she saw movement on the screen. It was dark, and hard to get a good view, but it looked like someone was running down the alleyway from the near distance. Uiharu blinked and squinted carefully, wishing the file had a higher quality, but she had compressed it a lot to get it out through the firewall, and video clarity suffered as a result. It looked like a girl... perhaps? Like she was running down the alley, her steps a bit uneven, as if she had a shoe only on one foot. There was something about her clothes... a school uniform? Yeah, it looked like a blazer and skirt. A very short skirt too. And knee socks. Why was that so familiar?

The girl wore some sort of night vision or vision enhancing goggles across her face, obscuring her features. She was holding some sort of ultramodern looking rifle in her hands too, pointing it behind her as she ran, as if she was fleeing from something. There was another figure visible in the distance, proceeding down the alley at a slower pace, almost a stroll rather than a run. That figure seemed to be dressed in dark clothing, but had bright white hair which showed up very clearly. The girl opened up with her rifle and Uiharu sucked in a breath in dismay... was she about to watch a homicide? She frowned the next second and slowed the video play down, watching as the muzzle flashes illuminated the girl's uniform and body a bit more. Uiharu blinked in shock and confusion, now feeling lost, cast adrift in a world that did not make sense.

 _That's a Tokiwadai middle school uniform. And her hair, and the way she wears the uniform, looks just like Misaka! But that's impossible. Misaka wasn't anywhere near this area at this time, was she? And she's never used a gun in her life. And she doesn't run away from people._ Uiharu watched the girl open fire again, another burst of bullets directed at the white haired figure. This time something happened, and the girl in the Toiwadai uniform was suddenly falling backwards, her goggles splintering off her face in shards as they were hit by something moving too fast to see. The girl fell back and looked right at the camera, and Uiharu gasped. The face was bloodied, but there was no mistaking it. _That's impossible. That's Misaka. Or at least, someone who looks just like her? Does she have a sister? A twin? But she's never mentioned that, and surely it would have come up by now, especially if she went to the same school! Shirai would have said something at least!_

Uiharu continued to watch, now glued to the screen. The Misaka lookalike scrambled up, sparks crackling from her bangs to strike the advancing white haired figured, before going down hard again moments later as the electricity rebounded from what was now visible as a young man in a black shirt with white markings, pale skin, and white hair. An albino perhaps? Uiharu was more interested in how the electric arc had bounced off him and struck the Misaka lookalike! Electricity did NOT move like that. It had to be an Esper ability in play. But what? The white haired boy approached the now fallen Misaka lookalike, standing over her in an unmistakably predatory fashion. Looming over her as she was stretched out on her back, defenseless and hurting and bleeding from shoulder and temple. Uiharu's breath was caught in her throat, as the boy slowly reached down towards the helpless girl, wondering if she was about to witness a sexual assault of some sort. The boy touched the Misaka lookalike's shoulder, seeming to stick his fingers actually into the gunshot wound there. Uiharu gagged just thinking about it.

A moment later she turned aside and vomited everything he'd eaten that day up, just barely making it into the trashcan by her desk. The Misaka lookalike had... had... had EXPLODED from within, her entire body dissolving in vast splurts of blood and gore that scattered all over the alleyway, leaving little left of her other than a vast red stain on the ground and scraps of cloth! Somehow, not a single drop of blood landed on the albino boy, as he simply turned around and walked away like it was no big deal what he'd just done. The video hazed off into static shortly thereafter, the end of the clip she'd stolen. Uiharu took many long minutes to recover even a shaky amount of poise. Sweating and shivering, she braced herself and watched the end of the clip over again. She felt like puking again, and knew she wouldn't sleep that night. But it was undeniable. The albino had killed the Misaka lookalike. Not just killed, destroyed, turned her into red mist and blood spatter, just by touching her! And then walked off like he was just going out to the convenience store!

 _And... and Kamijou... Kamijou must have found the body. The bloodstain. He must have known Misaka's sister, or whoever she was. So he called it in to Anti-Skill. But before they could arrive, someone cleaned up the crime scene. But why? How? Kamijou must have found something out though. Later that same night he was admitted to the hospital, more dead than alive. And Misaka felt like she owed him a great debt from then on. What is going on here? What happened? Do I even want to know anymore!? No. I have to know. I've seen too much to just ignore it now._ Uiharu swallowed heavily. _Was this why Misaka was so distant and cold back then? Was she dealing with someone stalking and killing a member of her family? No. No that can't be it. She would have been devastated if that happened. She wouldn't have been happy again right afterwards. That lookalike couldn't have been her sister. What was she then? She looked exactly like her, and had the same power even, and the same uniform. What the hell is going on there?!_

Uiharu rocked back in her chair, and thought a moment. She wanted to delete that data file. It was evidence of a cold blooded murder, that had apparently been covered up by someone very highly placed in the city hierarchy. She could get in trouble just for owning it. Trouble was the LEAST she could get into, really. This was the sort of thing people got killed over! But Misaka had been living with this knowledge, and who knew what else, all this time. And so too had Touma Kamijou. And now Uiharu knew too. At least a small part of it. She could try and hide from it. Delete the data. Pretend like she knew nothing. That would be safe, probably. But she couldn't forget what she'd seen. That horror. That lookalike. If this was the sort of thing that Misaka and Kamijou were involved in, if that was the reason Misaka felt so driven to prove herself to Kamijou, and Magic was something that could lead to other events like that... could she really afford to just turn away and pretend like she didn't know? Couldn't that put herself, and more importantly, her friends into danger?

Uiharu composed herself and secured the video file in her most secure data storage compartment, prototype stuff she hadn't showed anyone yet. It should be safe enough there. _I'll need to talk with Misaka though, soon. Alone if possible. She probably has good reasons for not telling us about this in the past, and she probably wouldn't want Shirai or Saten to know about it from me. Maybe I can convince her to tell us all about it, but if not then I guess it will be our secret from now on. Though it makes me wonder... what else goes on in this city away from the eyes of Judgement and Anti-Skill? What other darkness lurks in my home...?_


	18. Oddballs and Officers

**Author Note:**

I am certainly well pleased with the number of reviews on Chapter 17. Perhaps an occasional encouragement from the author has its benefits. Lets see if we can't keep it up going forward. This story is officially now 4th ranked amonsgt all my stories for number of reviews. But has a long way to catch up to reach number 3. Still, if we keep going at 5-7 reviews per chapter, we'll get there eventually.

Acpeters: I find it a little amusing that given how a huge portion of the entire Index/Railgun universe consists of "side stories" to the so called main plot, you comment on how side characters may be getting a little much focus. In my own opinion, I don't really have side characters. While Touma and Mikoto will be progressing along the "main" plotline of the story, I try to write every character with their own importance to the greater plotline and their own personal plotlines. It will take a great deal of time and words for them all to develop to their climaxes, individual and together. But my goal is to have the readers look back and NOT be able to think "why was this character in the story, they didn't ever amount to much, nothing they did really mattered to the story as a whole?". All the characters have their own story they are starring in, the greater story is just me weaving all those individual stories together. Or so I intend it anyway.

A Certain Guest: This also applies to RPGpersona. Consider that Kuroko was observing Touma and Index from about 40-50 meters away, and looking down into the room at a angle, which obscured her vision to some degree. When Index tackles Touma and knocks him over backwards, the table they were sitting at would also obscure her view. From that perspective, especially given how relatively passive Touma often is while being bitten by Index (certainly he is strong enough to stop her if he actually put effort into it), his halfhearted attempts to pull her off while wriggling around while Index lies on top of him and bites him, could look very much like passion and kissing and erotic nibbling, not punishment and biting. Especially in someone predisposed to see the worst in the situation. After all, biting someone while climbing on them as punishment is... really not normal. Especially to a member of the opposite gender. It's hard NOT to see a certain erotic undertone to that, no matter how much pain Touma might be in.

RPGpersona: Leonid and Anatoly got away because with ITEM on the scene, all the normal Anti-Skill forces are kept out of the area by ITEM's backer on the Board of Directors, so as not to complicate their job. Either that or dead, killed by Claudia on her way in. With Claudia fleeing and ITEM tending to a wounded comrade, there was no substantial pursuit. Also even wounded Antaoly is still very strong and could carry them away by jumping from the rooftops, just like he carried Leonid in. Leonid does, in point of fact, know Kuroko's ability, as shown during his planning for assassinating Mikoto in his first intro chapter. However he did not recognize the Intruder as Kuroko, given the disguise and darkness. I'm not sure he would have acted much differently if he had recognized her, but he might have.

Regarding Uiharu, from what I recall of her and how she's shown in canon, she is a helpless and naive romantic, who believes in princes sweeping you off your feet and love at first sight, because that's the kind of fiction she likes to read, and has no personal experience herself. Of course that is not how reality generally works, and she will slowly come to terms with that. But she's still a very overall innocent and sheltered teenage girl, when it comes to romance anyway. She's bound to have misconceptions.

321jaz: See, you can do it just fine after all, your own helpful review. That said, I do think we have differing views on what exactly counts as too many OC's, and too powerful. I have 7 ACME Espers, 3 Hollow One Villains, 2 Russians and 1 Independent Mage. 13 total OC's. Some of which haven't yet had more than token page time, and all but maybe 3-4 of are below level 5 power level. There's easily over 40 Canon cast characters in the full canon series, characters with actual re-occurring and important story roles, not just one off characters. Touma has a larger potential Harem in many stories, than I have important OC's.

And there's many canon characters who are ridiculously overpowered... Fiamma "auto-win" of the Right, Othinus "I'm goddamn Odin and can recreate the world as I see fit" the Magic God, Aleister "Controls worldwide Archetypes and summon a billion dimensional clones of me" Crowley... just to name a few. Not a single one of my characters even approaches that level of power. The only Villain that has so far actually "won" a major fight is Izarde, the big bad. And that fight might have gone very different if Kanzaki actually knew what she was fighting from the start.

As for too much Screentime, my OC's have had, in the last 5 chapters, 6 scenes from their perspective, vs 9 from Canon characters. And 3 of those 6 were major fight scenes, which could be said to be evenly divided between Canon characters and OC's. And 1 of those 6 was Leonid getting a mini-scene inside Kuroko's scene. So 2 actually devoted scenes to OC's, vs 9 devoted scenes to Canon characters. In the last 5 chapters, which is over 65,000 words. And I don't think that bucks the trend of the story as a whole. Is that really an overwhelming amount of screentime/focus?

The Tou-Aru universe is very large, and top heavy with ridiculously powerful characters, especially as the series progresses. My own OC's are bit players in comparison to the worldwide dominating/changing power level of many canon villains and characters. The only one who even comes close is Lord Izarde, and that's largely because he's had 2500 years to build up his secret organization and influence base, rather than raw personal power. They are still extremely powerful compared to most people of course, but they're characters in a high action, high drama cinematic setting, so duh. Of course, you are free to disagree with my assessment. Many people feel even one or two OC's is stretching the limits, as they come to read about the Canon cast in new adventures. I am not one of those people. I want to build and expand the world of the series, and that means new characters, new organizations, new plotlines. That's the kind of story this will be.

xxxx

 **Academy City, District 10, October 5th, Back Alleys**

A hunter prowled the back alleys of Academy City, relentlessly pursuing their elusive prey. Padding quietly through the forgotten areas of the city, pausing every now and then to sniff the air thoughtfully, trying to pick up on the slightest clue that might lead them to a solid trail to follow. Dogged and determined, they had been on the hunt for hours now today, and for hours on the days before as well, slowly zeroing in on false lead after false lead, but never giving in to discouragement. The harder the hunt, the greater the hunger for the pursuit they felt, and the more delicious the eventual conclusion would be. But today, an overhead conversation during the time when the hunter was unfairly caged at the most boring and dreary place in existence, had offered the juiciest bait yet, and immediately after escaping from that place, the hunter had returned to her den, made preparations, and then hit the streets, voracious and excited. Would today be the day the hunter feasted on the prey, and brought back the trophies they sought so badly?

Hunters came in many forms, and though most who looked at her might not believe it at first, the girl known as Ruiko Saten was definitely one of them. She had the patience, the dedication to spend hours in the dirt and the cold, searching for the faintest spoor of her prey, returning home day after day empty handed but still fired up for the chase. The fact that she hunted information, rather than animals, was no disqualification for being a hunter. Hunting information was, if anything, often harder than hunting animals, especially when the information you were hunting for was on the topic of Magic, and you resided in the most Scientific city on the planet. Saten though, had a talent for locking on to even the most unlikely sounding of Urban Legends and then following it until she found the root cause of it... and more often than not, she ended up striking gold, and found that the Urban Legend wasn't nearly as exaggerated as her friends had initially claimed it to be. Level Upper and the Undressedress, for instance.

She didn't precisely have an information network, no large organization of spies and informants feeding her information. Saten was just good at overhearing things, separating the wheat from the chaff when it came to rumors and hearsay, both in person and especially online. Uiharu might be better suited for actual datamining of facts and stuff, but when it came to scouring the digital world for unsubstantiated information, Saten was the queen. Perhaps she chased after the fantastic and the improbable so fiercely because it helped distract her from the frustrations of being so very ordinary herself, unable to manifest her Esper ability without resorting to extremely dangerous drugs that could easily have killed her. Perhaps. But Saten was rarely so introspective and self-analytical as that. She had better things to do with her life than examine her own motivations most of the time... she was too busy enjoying living her life to worry often about why she chose the ways she did to enjoy it.

Today she had heard rumors during school that there had been some sort of supernatural event at the City Cemetery in District 10 a couple nights before. Nobody really seemed to know what had happened for sure, but the Cemetery had been cordoned off and quarantined by Anti-Skill without much explanation, and people wearing self contained moon suits like they might use at the site of an industrial accident or disease outbreak, were seen moving around inside the Cemetery. And really, the story told itself. A Cemetery full of Espers, many of whom died young with unfulfilled dreams? There was even an already witnessed phenomena called Poltergeisting, when a living Esper's AIM Diffusion field went out of control. What might happen with a bunch of tormented Esper spirits all in one place together? It would be more surprising if the Academy City Cemetery WASN'T haunted in some way!

She could have taken a bus straight there of course, but Saten enjoyed walking and experiencing the City's less seen areas. She had one good rumor to investigate, but there was no telling what she might stumble across at random as well, and random encounters were the spice of life! She had worn her hunting clothes, in the winter variant. Long comfortable brown trousers with reinforcements and extra padding in the knees, suitable for kneeling on the ground while she peered under things, or bracing herself as she climbed over things. A red t-shirt underneath a beige button up long sleeve shirt that was made of cheap but tough material, easy to clean, or even to discard if it grew too filthy and damaged for reclamation, and which she could either roll up the sleeves and unbutton if she grew too hot, or roll down the sleeves and button up if she grew cold. Comfortable and old tennis shoes that she didn't mind getting dirty. She even had a pair of gardening gloves to put on in case she needed to pick up or handle a disgusting looking clue. It wasn't the cutest of outfits, but it was very practical and comfortable. She did still have her flower hair accessory though, as she felt it was good luck. And she wanted to feel a little feminine even when focused on hunting.

 _I don't smell anything interesting. Just old garbage and dirt and stagnant water._ Saten thought to herself, sniffing the air at the juncture of several alleyways. After some thought, she had pinned her red Judgement Volunteer Auxiliary armband to her sleeve as well. In case anyone in authority happened to ask her what she was doing wandering the back alleys, poking into things furtively, which she knew from experience, could be difficult to differentiate from the way some delinquents acted when looking for trouble. She could point up the armband and say she was working on matters of City security. And while many denizens of the back alleys were not generally too fond of Judgement or anyone associated with them, Saten wasn't too worried about it getting her into trouble.

 _I'm young and female and alone and cute. That's more than enough to get me into trouble if I run across the wrong sort of people._ Saten thought wryly. It had happened to her many times in her life... but she was fit and active, and generally a very good runner, who only rarely tripped over herself. And usually only when talking on the phone while running, which was generally a bad idea, no matter how necessary it might be at the time. She'd had a few close calls, but had been bailed out of them by her friends each time thus far.

That was less of a risk during the autumn and winter months though. There was little heat in the back alleys, and most of the troublesome sorts generally kept indoors and in more comfortable areas when it was colder out. In summer they were out prowling the back alleys in force, when they could stay out all night long without issue, but in winter that was not the case. She had encountered few people so far today anyway, and none of them had spared her more than a glance or two before hurrying on with their own business. Saten had also come up empty on interesting random encounters, and was getting close to her main objective, the Cemetery. This had though, at least given her plenty of time and opportunity to think and reflect on the last few days since Misaka had opened up to all of them and asked for their help. And even admitted that she was in love with a BOY! Saten was still a little shocked and "squee" about that!

 _Not that it was a real surprise. I knew from the moment she got all flustered in my kitchen while baking those cookies that she liked someone. Still, I guess I'm happy that she's maturing enough to admit it at last. Pining after a boy is nice and all, but if you can't be honest with yourself, how can you ever hope for the relationship to progress? Regardless of what Uiharu likes to read about in her manga and light novels, boys these days aren't just going to sweep you off your feet while playing the prince. If you want that sort of thing, hire a professional Host for an evening of fantasy! If you don't put in the effort and pursue them, they will pass you by in favor of a girl who does show she's interested. Of course, I guess I shouldn't throw stones, I'm still single with no prospects in sight..._ Saten sighed to herself. _Well I guess there are boys in class who have indicated interest in me from time to time. The option is there if I want it. I just haven't felt any sparks yet. Misaka is lucky to have found such an interesting guy..._

Though calling this Kamijou guy just "interesting" was perhaps a disservice. He was flat out intriguing and mysterious! Saten had met him before during the Daihaisei, and he had given her a favorable impression at the time. She was just surprised with how much faith Misaka had in him, and how much esteem she held him in. Saten knew that Misaka respected her, and liked her, as she did all her friends. And as a Level 5 to a Level 0, she knew that wasn't something to be taken for granted, it meant a lot to her. That was why when Misaka wanted to rely on her, asking for a favor, she was only too glad to comply... it was exciting having someone with as much personal power as Misaka had, to admit that they needed your help, even though you had almost no power at all!

But the way Misaka talked about Kamijou, the way she acted regarding him... it wasn't like a Level 5 talking about a Level 0 they respected and liked. It was like a Level 5 talking about someone stronger that they hoped to one day measure up to and earn the respect of themselves. Like he was her hero or something. Kamijou was definitely a very special guy, far moreso than he appeared to be on the surface, to have that kind of effect on Mikoto Misaka, the Railgun of Tokiwadai!

Of course, Misaka wasn't the only person to have made developments and progress of late, Saten reminded herself with a wide grin. _Uiharu, Uiharu, Uiharu... what am I going to do with you?_ Saten thought, half amused and half despairingly. _You think I cannot tell? You think I am blind or stupid? You should know better. You know I can tell what you're thinking and feeling, even when you try to hide it from me, even when you try to hide it from yourself! This Albert Joule character has got your eye. Just admit it! It's not a bad thing to interested in a boy, even one you just met! I'm envious really. I want a random encounter with a cute and heroic guy like that! It's not like I'm expecting you to say "I want to make him my boyfriend" or "I'm going to marry this guy". Just admit that he's someone you want to check out. Is it really that hard to admit you might be interested in someone? Doesn't feel like it should be._ Saten broke out in a wide and wicked grin. _And don't think I haven't noticed your reluctance to give details on what happened right after he saved you from those thugs. Something juicy happened there, and I WILL find out what it was eventually..._

Like Saten herself, Uiharu had been devoting much of her free time over the last few days to researching Magic and investigating Touma Kamijou. Saten hadn't been able to touch base with Uiharu much about it though... her friend was always super serious but also shy, it was part of her charm after all, but in the last couple days she'd been withdrawn and even more quiet and mousey than usual. She was trying to act normal, but Saten was her best friend. She knew when something was bothering Uiharu. Also, as her best friend, she knew when to pry, and when to let Uiharu come forward in her own time. This was one of the latter situations. Whatever Uiharu had discovered, it was clearly shocking and important to her. However it was equally obvious that she wasn't going to share it with Saten, and would only get angry if Saten tried to pry it out of her. Why pick a fight with your best friend for no reason, when just a little patience would eventually see all questions anwered? In the meantime she could just tease about the boy, Albert Joule, to keep herself amused.

 _Though speaking of picking a fight with your friend, I sure hope Shirai knows what she's doing, when investigating Kamijou. I don't think her agenda and interpretation of that job is at all like what Misaka intended when she asked her to do it. Wanting to protect your friends, especially in matters of the heart, is a great and noble quality. But can she be objective about it? She obviously loves Misaka, both platonically and romantically. That's been clear as day from the moment I met her. And that's a wonderful thing really. But it's equally obvious that Misaka is straight, and not interested in romantic love with another girl. Their friendship endures despite that, and that's awesome. But now that Misaka has a boy she likes, I have to wonder if she's going to be as tolerant of Shirai's pushiness and minor sexual assaults as she used to be. And God help Shirai if she gets caught trying to interfere in Misaka's relationship with Kamijou in any substantial way! That's the sort of thing that can ruin friendships!_ Saten frowned worriedly. _Shirai is smart, she should know that. But she's also completely lost in her love for Misaka... will her emotions get the best of her?_

Such worries aside though, Shirai had been more cheerful and upbeat in the last couple days than Saten had been expecting, given how Shirai had acted during the shopping trip in which Misaka asked for their help, and even admitted that she loved Kamijou. That couldn't have been easy to hear for Shirai. Saten had expected her to be depressed and angsty and bitter... any reasonable person who found out that the person they loved, loved someone else, would feel like that, surely. But she had remained more or less her usual self, which was part of why Saten was worried that Shirai saw this whole event in a different light than Misaka and the rest of them did, and that could be trouble. Perhaps it had something to do with Shirai's new friend that had just transferred into her class a few days before. It was good to see Shirai making more friends at school, especially openly... whatever Shirai might say about the Kongou girl, it was clear they were friends, Shirai just didn't want to admit it for some reason. But she was having no such trouble with this new girl, Claudia. Saten was looking forward to meeting her soon hopefully, to meet someone who could find Shirai's acceptance so quickly and openly.

That wasn't the only thing Saten was looking forward to either. In just a few days, on October 9th, Academy City would be celebrating its Independence Day. There would be a half day of school on the 8th, to allow students and faculty to prepare for the city wide festivals and celebrations to follow on the 9th, which was a holiday from school. That was reason enough to be happy, but even moreso, was that Tokiwadai was holding one of its rare few events during the year that was open to the public! They also held events where they opened up their Dorms to the public for a day, but that was as much advertising as it was celebration, and was by invitation alone. This time they were holding it on the school grounds themselves, it was open to all the public who wanted to come, and it promised to be quite the event! All of the schools in the School Garden were holding their own events as well, so it promised to be quite a competition between them for the largest audience. Saten had been inside Tokiwadai once, when she borrowed a uniform from Misaka to replace the one she'd fallen into a puddle with, but that had been a whirlwind tour at best, and she was looking forward to having time to actually explore the place!

Looking up as the alley ended in front of her, Saten realized that her wanderings had carried her to her destination as she was lost in thought. She appeared from the alleyway, across the street from the City Cemetery. The Cemetery took up several square blocks of space, so her sense of instinctive direction wasn't that amazing... anyone wandering in this general direction in this District would have to try pretty hard not to stumble across the Cemetery. True to what the rumor said though, all the entrances were cordoned off and blocked by Anti-Skill vehicles and stationed officers, with yellow tape and orange and white striped wooden barriers blocking the vehicle and pedestrian entrances. The Cemetery itself was surrounded by a high hedge on all sides, backed by a fence of brick and ironwork, so Saten could not see into the grounds except through gaps in the Anti-Skill presence at the entrances.

She wasn't the only person doing a bit of rubbernecking, and Saten blended into the small crowd easily enough, standing on tip toes and craning her head this way and that, trying to get a glimpse of anything strange or interesting, but mostly she could only see the rows of headstones. There did seem to be a couple large white tents erected in the distance, but she wasn't familiar enough with the Cemetery to know how strange that was, or what they might be erected over. One look at the grim faces of the Anti-Skill officers on duty at the entrances put paid to any ideas about potentially bullshitting her way past them for a peek at the inside of the Cemetery. They were fully armed and armored, and appeared in no mood for nonsense. They looked as serious as Saten had ever seen them at any of the various crime scenes she'd been at or involved in over her time in the City. The lack of access was annoying, but the presence of Anti-Skill in such force and seriousness was a good sign. Something big had happened in the Cemetery, that much was certain. Now she just had to figure out how she would get more of a scoop on it.

"What are they saying happened?" She asked, not to anyone in specific, but just putting the question to the crowd.

"Not much." Someone answered with tones of disgruntlement. "They say there has been an "incident" in the graveyard, but that's all. And then evoke City Security protocols as excuse for not saying more or allowing anyone inside. Even if they have family awaiting burial, the heartless bastards!"

"I heard there were people wearing fancy environment suits walking in and out of those big tents." Someone else volunteered. "And there were a whole bunch of ambulances here a couple nights ago, fire trucks and Anti-Skill too."

"That was strange." A third voice, distinctly female and older, added to the general discussion. "I live in this District, only a block away, and as far as I can recall, there was nobody even around before Anti-Skill and Emergency Services showed up like they were responding to a major disaster. The place was empty as, well, a Cemetery at night! The streets were totally empty that night."

"Huh..." Saten muttered to herself, as she slowly drifted out of the crowd, heading along the sidewalk towards a different entrance, hoping perhaps for a different view of the cemetery grounds. "Was it a Terrorist attack? That could explain the big response and the lack of information. But if the place was supposed to be empty, why target it? Blowing up a cemetery isn't exactly going to frighten too many people, especially late at night. And it doesn't explain the big tents or the guys in fully contained environment suits. It's like something out of a movie! OH!" Saten clapped her hands in excitement as a thought occured to her. "Is it a zombie plague!? Are the dead rising to prey on the city with cannibalistic hunger!?"

"Actually it was a Demon." A young male voice called out to her, startling her out of her thoughts. Saten looked around until she could locate the source of the voice, which seemed to be a young man of about high school age, dressed in white pants and a white and red T shirt in the pattern of the Rising Sun emblem, with a white school jacket draped over his shoulders like a cape, and a white headband with long tails around his forehead. He was leaning against the wall of a building across the street, arms crossed over his chest. Saten could hardly believe he'd heard her, as she was talking mostly to herself under her breath, but he was looking right at her, so he did appear to be talking to her. She crossed the street and approached him, a tad warily... he looked like a wild sort, but she didn't feel any overt threat from him at least.

"What did you say? A Demon?" Saten asked, a tad dubiously. She pursued Urban Legends and all, but that didn't mean she believed in everything she heard. At the end of the day, she was an Esper after all, just a crappy one, and she believed in reason and scientific explanations for most things. Perhaps there was a paranormal as well as a supernatural, if there was she had not seen any hard proof of it yet, but remained open to the possibility. Perhaps that was one reason she was excited to hear Misaka, amongst the most skeptical of her friends, talking about Magic stuff as if it was real!

"Yes indeed! It had great, flaming guts! Twice my height or more, and far heavier. It looked like a wolf on two legs. With a snake for a tail, and huge bird wings, and blazing red eyes, and fiery breath! And spoke in a voice to shake the sky. I think it was a singer of some sort as well." The boy answered, his voice excited and a tad overloud. Saten blinked, a bit unsure how to respond, especially to the last non-sequitur.

"A giant two legged wolf-snake-bird fire breathing Demon... singer?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow, making sure that she had that correct. She recognized all the words. They just didn't feel right combined in that fashion.

"Yes, exactly! It promised to make songs about how it would make me suffer, for the entire world to hear. It was very gutsy, if dark. But hey, who am I to judge their genre, right?" The boy replied with a wide grin.

"Right... you say you saw this thing directly?" Saten found herself, for once, in the position of the incredulous skeptic. Surely there would be reports going around the city about something that looked like THAT, right? Such a thing was the very definition of noticeable. And this was the first she was hearing of it. Did that mean the City was somehow covering it up? Or perhaps there was another explanation... an obvious one even. "Were you... high, recently?" Saten asked, as gently as possible.

"I am always high! High on life! It's because of my guts, you see."

"Ooooookaaaaay..." Saten resisted the urge to step back. _Just play along Saten. Maybe he saw something, maybe he just has a really good imagination, but either way it beats walking around and around trying to peer past Anti-Skill's blockade._ "So what were you doing when you encountered this Demon-Singer thing? Why were you at the Cemetery that night? Wasn't it past visiting hours?"

"I received an anonymous phone tip from a concerned citizen of the city, saying that a nefarious duo were spotted entering the Cemetery late at night and were probably up to no good! I immediately rushed over here to confront them, and found them in the morgue, disturbing the dead." The boy frowned, and for a moment Saten felt his lighthearted aura change to a sort of pressure that nearly pushed her down to her knees, before vanishing as if it had never been. "I told them that it took twisted and rotten guts indeed to defile the peaceful dead, and they responded by attacking me! One of them shot me several times, then threw me through the ceiling and out into the cemetery. Then he shot me a few more times, with flaming bullets this time. He also had a huge axe covered in flames too! So I punched him, and he flew about fifty meters away, but got up again. He had some guts!" The boy told Saten, his tone completely serious.

"I see." Saten replied, unsure what else to say. She saw, but wasn't sure what it was that she was seeing, so to speak. _How old is this boy, really? He looks like he's 16 or so. He talks like a 5 year old who watches too many superhero cartoons._ "So you got shot, thrown through a building, then shot again? And then punched your attacker so hard they flew fifty meters away? Weren't you hurt?"

"No, I stopped the bullets with the power of my guts the first time, then I dodged the flaming bullets the second time."

"Ah, your guts again. Yes, I see, that makes sense." Saten answered, fighting to keep a straight face. He sounded perfectly serious. But what he was talking about was completely ridiculous. Perhaps he was an Esper. No, it was certain he was. But why not just admit he used an Esper power? Why all this talk about guts? This guy didn't make sense at all! Did this fight really even happen, or was he just taking her for a ride for some reason, seeing how far he could go before she called bullshit? Was this some sort of convoluted way of hitting on her? It didn't feel like it. But the guy was so strange, it was difficult for her to get a read on him.

"Indeed. I pointed out to the villain that he was no match for me and my guts, but he disagreed. That's when he transformed into the giant Demon and promised to make songs about my suffering at his hands. Then he breathed fire all over me, but I resisted it with my guts! All his fire did was fire me up even more, and I gave him an Amazing Punch Combo! He went down again, flying and rolling across the ground, but once more got up! He sure had guts of his own, that Demon-Singer! Very few people get back up again after I land an Amazing Punch Combo!" The boy continued exuberantly, warming to his topic. "It was a fight of pure guts on both sides! I kept knocking him down and smashing him into the ground, and he kept getting back up and trying to claw me, bite me and roast me in fire... perhaps he was hungry. But the only thing I served him was a dish of cold, hard justice!"

"Sounds... amazing..." Saten winced as she used that particular word, since it seemed to be a trigger of his, and he nodded proudly in acknowledgement.

"It was, it was indeed. The most amazing thing to happen to me since I saw those Dragons during the Daihaisei! Then I punched him back through the morgue, and I saw inside that there was a beautiful young priestess armed with a huge nodachi, fighting with an old man in a top hat and suit wielding a cane! They seemed to be well matched to me in terms of guts, so I let them be and continued on after the Demon." The boy shrugged and frowned a little. "I could have sworn the priestess had the greater guts though, but she ended up losing somehow. I eventually had to step in once she stabbed the old man through the chest, but was then knocked down and being unfairly beaten by the old man. The villains ran away soon after that, using some method I still can't understand to confuse me so that I did not notice them leaving. My guts failed me there! I will need to train harder and find even more guts before I encounter them again!"

"A beautiful priestess with a sword. I see. Stabbing an old man through the chest, but then being beaten by him. Quite nice of you to intervene like that." Saten said again, feeling completely lost. What kind of story was this? It just kept getting more bizarre.

"It was nothing." The boy actually looked a tad bashful. "Any man with real guts would have done the same. I took her to the best hospital in the City, where a man with some of the greatest guts I've ever known works, and left her in his care. She disappeared before I could visit her the next day though... she really did have great guts, to be able to escape the hospital after the beating she took!"

"Oh, of course she did. She probably didn't want to be found by Anti-Skill, after stabbing an old man through the chest, even if he deserved it." Saten replied, unsure if she was helping or hurting this poor boy by playing along with his fantastical story. _Convenient how the one witness that might corroborate his story suddenly vanished into thin air._ "So what brings you back here today then?"

"I wanted to see if I could help in the restoration of the Cemetery. It did get a little beat up during my fight. That happens a lot to me when my guts get pumped up. I don't mean to, but when I get excited, there tends to be some collateral property damage. But Anti-Skill doesn't like letting me back into crime scenes, even if I was involved in creating them. Especially then even. They are always worried I'm going to break something else. So they told me to keep my distance. They were very insistent about it. Something about me being a danger to everyone and everything around me, but that's not right. I'm only dangerous to those with no guts, or rotten guts." The boy assured Saten.

"And what kind of guts do I have?" Saten asked, genuinely curious. The boy didn't feel threatening, aside from being older and bigger and probably physically stronger than her, but that was normal for a highschool boy. The look he gave her made her quail just a little bit, but it was just so intense, as he looked her up and down in a considering fashion that might have made her blush if it had happened in another time or place. She was being checked out, yes, but it was as a person, not as a girl. Still, it was intense, being so carefully observed from close range by a boy.

"Your guts are good ones, pure and gentle, but also strong and caring." The boy responded at length, and Saten did blush then, as his words were complimentary, and said so frankly and seriously. "I can tell you're skeptical of me, but you chose to listen to me regardless, and didn't make fun of me or resort to sarcasm like a lot of people do. Whether you believe me or not is up to you. All I can say is that my guts don't allow me to lie. Especially to a cute girl... that is an act without guts!"

"Heh. And here I thought you were too much of an oddball to be charming." Saten retorted with a smirk. _I was looking for a random encounter I guess. I just didn't expect it to be this random._ "It's been nice meeting you. I'm Ruiko Saten." Saten politely introduced herself.

"Gunha Sogiita. Likewise." The boy nodded with his usual informality. Though he did seem to be watching her for some kind of reaction, though Saten had no idea what he might be looking for. At length, he smiled, though the meaning behind that escaped her. "And what brings you here, Saten-san? You seemed interested in the Cemetery and what happened to it."

"I'm out hunting urban legends and rumors, trying to track down some information for a friend of mine. She's recently gotten interested in the possibility of the Paranormal, and so my other friends and I are trying to help her see if she can't find any proof it exists. I heard about something happening at the Cemetery while in school today, so I figured I'd check it out. A graveyard full of dead Espers, feels to me like the kind of place where something Paranormal might happen. But thanks to whatever's going on in there, obviously that's a bust." Saten answered with a shrug. _Though come to think of it..._ She thought with an internal grin. "Hey... if you really are responsible for causing whatever happened at the Cemetery, do you think you could help me sneak in to get a better look at it? That would go a long way towards proving your story true after all."

"I see your guts are also wicked and reckless." Gunha replied, though he didn't sound entirely displeased with that. "But I did promise Anti-Skill I would not enter the Cemetery without their permission, and it wouldn't feel right to me to help someone else violate that rule either, and I would have to try to dissuade you from doing it by yourself now that you have admitted wanting to do so to me. The guts of a real man guide him to following the rules as much as possible... even when he doesn't want to."

"I figured that might be the case, no worries. The guts of this girl impel her to find out information for her friends, but not so much I'm going to violate the law. Especially if there's a really good chance I'll get caught, and no proof that there's even anything worth taking that much risk for." Saten replied with another shrug. "Well then I guess I'm..." Saten trailed off from excusing herself from the conversation to head elsewhere. About a block away, heading into the alley that she herself had come out of not too long ago, was a boy of about Gunha's age, with spiky electric blue hair and a thick long button up coat, and heavy boxy backpack. He even had archaic looking goggles on his head. Saten had never seen him before, but she recognized him from Uiharu's description, forcefully coaxed from her over the last couple days. With one investigation turning up a bust, that gave her motivation for switching tracks and investigating something else. Namely this boy that her best friend might be interested in!

 _Since Uiharu won't tell me anything substantial about him, clearly it is up to me to take advantage of this situation to learn about him for myself. Just in case there is something dangerous about him. Though if there is, being trapped in the back alleys alone with him could be a bad thing..._ Saten considered a potential possibility and then decided that it didn't hurt to ask at least. "Hey, this may seem strange, but could I ask you for a favor, Sogiita-san? I just saw someone that another one of my friends has been interested in lately. I've never met them before though, and I want to make sure that they are on the up and up. My friend is a lovely and kind girl, but she can be a little naive when it comes to romance. This could be her first crush, and I really want it to work out for her. So I'm going to follow them and watch them a bit. But they went into the back alleys. And if they aren't on the up and up, it could be dangerous to be alone in the alleys with them. If you're not doing anything, would you like to come along and back me up just in case? You seemed able to peg my guts with a glance, maybe you could help me decide whether he has the proper guts to maybe date my friend in the future?"

"Assisting a cute girl in determining the suitability of a man's guts in the interest of protecting her dear friend?" Gunha replied, slowly grinning widely. "I can hardly think of a better use of my time. Lead on, Saten-san! My guts shall ensure no one interferes with your appraisal of this potential suitor for your friend! And if we both agree that his guts are not true and good, then I shall ensure that he is disabused of any notions of bothering your friend in the future. Toying with the heart of a pure girl is an act only those with the most rotten guts would accept after all!"

xxxx

 **Back Alley's of District 10**

Albert Joule was also a hunter, having pursued his own particular prey halfway across the world to come to Academy City, looking for the perfect material to construct his next perpetual dynamo out of. That particular prey yet remained elusive, and for the time being, he had placed such matters on hold, having recently come across a far more intriguing possibility when he encountered the girl named Uiharu and discovered her Esper power. If he could figure out how her power worked, and why she remained at such a low effective level of it despite years of earnest effort, perhaps he would be able to learn how to replicate that power. There would be no need for expensive and exotic materials to use for his dynamos, if he could simply cheat the laws of thermodynamics to allow any material to be used! He would definitely need to research a new theorem or two on this subject. The Principle of Ostentatious Energetic Multiplication would unfortunately not apply, as the way Uiharu's power acted was generally more subtle than that.

 _Thermodynamic Exclusion Theory? The Law of Entropic Negation? Hmmm..._ Albert thought deeply, trying to think up a proper name for the new field of study. Without a good name for the research, he would never be able to make the intuitive leaps of understanding and insight that allowed him to make use of his powers in a new way. That was simply how his process worked. First he came up with an idea, then a theory name to research it under, then with enough thought and effort and experimentation, he made the theory into reality. The scientific method at work! Though generally mainstream scientists worked to disprove their hypothesis, rather than prove it as he did. Perhaps that was why their results were generally so much less impressive than his were... they started with such a pessimistic attitude! True scientific progress should be a joyous, messy endeavor, where brilliance and genius could propel you forward past all prior limits... the need to allow other people to understand what you had found only held you back in the end.

Once he settled on a name, he then had to discover as much information about the subject as possible, referencing texts both scientific and arcane, in order to serve as a foundation for his future research. He was currently getting a bit ahead of himself in that regard, as he was still choosing the proper name for the new research, while also going about collecting some raw data. It was proving frustrating though... one would think, in an entire City devoted to producing Espers, how they went about doing so would be common knowledge. That was not the case he had found. Even the Espers themselves did not seem to actually understand how the process they went through granted them their powers. Uiharu had attempted to explain it to him, but her explanation had felt flawed and incomplete to him. She hadn't been lying. He just didn't feel as if she really knew the truth of what she was trying to explain.

So he had been seeking out a source who did know the truth of the matter, but his quest had so far come up dry. His first thought had been to check the city library, but that had not gone so well. While the Library did have public information access, it was all digital based information. It might as well have been in ancient Sumerian tablets for all the good that did him. There were physical information repositories such as books at the Library, but in order to check them out, one needed a City ID card, and he lacked such. And simply hanging out at the Library to do his research would not do. It was far too public, with many Anti-Skill and Judgement patrols on a regular basis. He would be exposed in short order out there. And he could not count on law enforcement being as kind and gentle and understanding as Uiharu was.

It wasn't that he didn't acknowledge that Digital technology was important. It was self evident that it was effective and useful... most of the modern world relied on it after all. It simply didn't make sense to him, just as his own Aether-Voltaic technomagic made no sense to mainstream scientists. Trying to comprehend how it worked made his head hurt, and interacting with it was mostly just pressing random buttons and hoping it would do what he wanted it to do. Which it generally didn't. Sometimes violently so, depending on how many buttons he pushed, and how fast, and how hard. With a mechanical interface, if you jostled it hard enough, and long enough, it would often fix jams and other problems, or at least allow you to get a better idea of what was wrong with it. Digital interfaces didn't do that though, and didn't respond well to it either. And Digital interfaces were surprisingly delicately made too, for something meant for everyday use... plastics and synthetics instead of good solid metals! Alas he'd remembered that too late to save the library computer from his attempts to mechanically jostle it to better functionality with a few well placed thumps of a hammer. Which was another reason the Library was no longer an option for his research.

That left him with more physically intensive methods of information gathering. First he had canvassed several other Espers he met on the street, hoping to see if their explanation of the power development process matched up with Uiharu's, but most people did not seem interested in discussing such things with him. Some even expressed their desire to not do so in a violent manner, forcing him to defend himself. Once defeated, such Espers generally became a bit more tractable and helpful, though by that point, the specter of unintentional coercion had already rendered any information they gave him suspect. Someone who was scared and hurting after all, might tell him anything to try and appease him, true or not. And he didn't have the grounding in the science to be able to tell appeasement lies from revealed truth.

 _Perhaps I should seek out Uiharu again?_ Albert thought, and not for the first time. _She's much more agreeable than the majority of the Espers I've encountered thus far, and far more pleasant company. Her skepticism of my Technomagic is a little bothersome of course, but being raised within the environment of mainstream science, naturally she attempts to disprove all new information as she encounters it, and only accepts that which she cannot disprove or call into reasonable doubt. She at least remains open to the possibility of accepting it in the future though, which is an intellectual concession that most of the world steadfastly refuses to make. That alone makes her exceptional, regardless of her game changing Esper power! And she did indicate that she was open to the possibility of another meeting for discourse and companionship._

That would be pleasant, indeed. However he had no idea where to find her, and it would not be an efficient use of his time to simply hang out in some of the locations she had taken them to during that day, hoping to catch sight of her. And would render him more visible to other Judgement members than he liked. And having discovered no new information with which to continue their debate about Esper powers, Albert felt like he would be conceding defeat in some manner to Uiharu. Or at least conceding that his own position on the matter was the weaker and less supported one. Sometimes that was necessary... in the large scheme of things, his Technomagic was the weaker and less supported theory compared to mainstream science after all. But conceding to Uiharu in specific on such a matter felt aggravating. _Do I simply wish to prove her wrong so badly? Even though it might upset her? Or is it that I simply do not wish to appear weak and foolish in her eyes? Am I attempting to prove myself to her in some way? Why?_ Albert was puzzled by his emotions, which were not aligning fully with his rational thoughts on the matter.

Pausing at an alley juncture, Albert looked around in all four directions, but saw no one around. His Perpetual Dynamo then unfolded into a more active mode, bolts of voltaic and aetheric energies leaping from the tesla coils as he evoked Ostentatious Energetic Multiplication, channeling Voltaic energies into the finger of his WATT glove, allowing him to sear a complex technomagic schemata onto the wall of the alley, burning the surface later of the dirty concrete into black char along the path of his finger. It appeared as if he was drawing in thick graphite or coal dust on the bare wall, completing first a circle, and then various symbols that bordered the circle and represented various things of arcane importance, such as colors, directions and seasons. This was not technically a technomagical thing he was doing, though he was using technomagic to prepare it. But he had learned a few tricks outside his usual areas of expertise from time to time, and this was one of the more useful for an innovator on the go like him.

His queries to Espers had eventually resulted in some of them referring him to shadier sorts hanging around the edges of the City's shadow, and meetings with and interrogations of such shadowy figures, under the guise of being an Esper seeking out a new way to improve his power rather than the normal curriculum, had given Albert some information about a group of underground scientists who went by the wonderfully vague name of FACTOR. Such names apparently being common as identifying marks for underworld groups in Academy City. Apparently the underworld had been experiencing some upheavals of late as a new group from outside the City was muscling its way in, and didn't seem too choosy about who they stepped on in the process. The scientists of FACTOR, being mostly a pure research group, had suddenly decided they had a need for some muscle to protect their interests from the interlopers, and were offering help in improving the power level of any Espers that would in turn work as security for them.

Acquiring the name and picture of one such FACTOR scientist, Albert was now searching for him at a rumored FACTOR facility that was said to be hidden somewhere in District 10. His informant had offered to introduce him to FACTOR himself, but the man had seemed oily and dishonest to say the least, and Albert didn't trust the way he seemed to be smiling like he was going to get one over on Albert in the process of helping him. He'd been swindled by the criminal underworld before back home in the USA when forced to engage with them for various reasons. FACTOR was clearly an unsavory sort of organization, and if he had any choice he would not associate with them. But they were currently his best lead towards finding out more information about how Espers gained their powers, and why some of them were unable to progress despite given the same opportunities as everyone else.

Completing the Schemata on the wall, Albert then channeled Aetheric energies into the completed array, causing the center of the circle to waver and shift, changing from bare and dirty concrete wall to a birds eye view of the District, with a glowing dot appearing on the map where his current target was located. Tracking spells of this sort were a common convenience on the Magic side, like a GPS phone app would be for a scientist. Taking note of the location of the glowing dot and its surroundings, Albert then activated his GAMARA boots and lifted himself up into the sky quickly. He cast a shield of voltaic energies around himself as he did so, which would obscure him in the eyes of electronic and physical surveillance, making him look like ball lightning rather than a person, as he gained a bird's eye perspective of the surrounding area for himself, and them compared it to what he'd seen on his tracking spell.

"Getting there." Albert said to himself, as he lowered himself back to the ground and then rubbed the thumb of his AMP glove across the side of the circle, smearing and breaking the char line, and then absorbing the remaining Aetheric energy back into his capacitors. He returned his dynamo to standby mode, and shifted it to a slightly more comfortable position on his shoulders, and then set off down the alley again. Several minutes later he repeated the process to ensure he was heading in the right direction, and that his target had not moved. It had not, which made it seem pretty reliable that the scientist was at work in a research facility of some sort. The surrounding buildings were mostly warehouses and offices though, nothing that particularly looked like a research center. But perhaps that was the point, for an underworld group like FACTOR.

Finally he reached the building in which his target resided, but Albert could find no entrance. It was another blocky warehouse, with no windows and only a few doors, as well as large roll up metal doors used for the vehicular loading and unloading of materials. But all methods of ingress were securely locked, and he could feel electrical signals running through them and the walls around them when he placed his WATT glove on them. They were alarmed as well as locked, and maybe even booby trapped. He lowered his AIM goggles over his eyes and scanned the building, seeing lots of green bio-electric sparks and a few greyscale waveforms from Espers, but there was no telling which belong to the man he had come to see. It appeared that spurning the oily informant's offer of a guided introduction, no matter how suspect, might have been the wrong thing to do.

Of course, a simple locked door, alarmed and trapped or not, would not deter Albert Nikola Joule from entering a building if he so wished. He could blast the door down with a bolt of Voltaic power, or use a concentrated blade of Aetheric energies to carve his own door right through the wall, if he so wished. But such acts would be all too easily seen as hostile intent, and he didn't want to have to fight a battle just to get this information. He'd been doing too much of that simply to get this far. Surely as fellow scientists ostracized from the mainstream, if for different reasons, they would be open to a rational discourse if he could but reach them! And if he so happened to reach them in a manner that was sufficiently impressive and intimidating, without being overtly hostile, well that could only strengthen his negotiating position, surely!

This called for application of one of his rarest and most complex theories, the Principle of Omni-Inclusionary Aetheric Exchange! In essence, each person had their own unique Aetheric signature which allowed them to use their Aetheric energies to perform what some people called Magic, and was to Albert a form of science, with proper training and experience. This signature applied regardless of what form the person took, it was a inherent part of them, an expression of their position in reality. It was in essence, a form of information, as all things were. Omni-Inclusionary Aetheric Exchange allowed Albert to convert the rest of his information, including that of his physical form, into Aetheric expression, and then transmit that information along Aetheric pathways to bypass physical barriers, before restoring himself from his own Aetheric signature elsewhere, reforming and reformatting his original physical information from the Aetheric expression. It was his most revolutionary theory, and the closest he had yet come to any sort of Digital Magictechnology... he sometimes explained it to people by likening it to faxing or emailing himself across a barrier and then answering or opening the fax/email on the other side.

It was not a particularly useful theory of Magictechnology. Very energy and time consuming, and for generating an effect that could usually be achieved by other Magictechnological theories quicker and easier. Even a short jaunt through Aetheric Exchange would take hundreds of times more energy than simply cutting through the wall or blowing down the door. But it was visually impressive, and would allow him to enter the facility despite its safeguards, and hopefully allow him to overawe the occupants to avoid a fight... especially as his power reserves would take a little while to replenish to combat capacity in the wake of the Exchange. Steeling himself, as the process was not without its physical unpleasantness as well, Albert began to enact the Exchange. The Perpetual Dynamo deployed once more, arcs of voltaic and Aetheric energies spitting wildly from the tesla coils, waving and spitting through the air in a massive electric display! Bolts of what would appear as lightning earthed into the ground all around him, projecting from his WATT gauntlet like water from a fountain, carving char lines on the ground in a vast schemata diagram around him, which would help focus his Aetheric energies and prevent physical information from being lost during the transition to Aetheric state.

The dynamo grew hot against his back, even through his ERG coat, as brilliant blue and white and purple light pulses and flowed in a stream from the vents built into the Dynamo, the internal mechanics whirring and buzzing and vibrating with the strain of close to full power operation, pistons pumping, springs uncoiling, gears spinning, and everywhere Voltaic and Aetheric energies mingling and crackling, covering his body in a web of electricity. After several minutes of this, the preparations were complete. Bracing himself, Albert took an entire handful of extremely sour "shock tarts" candies and popped them into his mouth, and began crunching them ferociously with his teeth, releasing their potent flavors into his mouth all at once. This final "shock" helped initiate his Aetheric transfer, as the lightning covering his body began sinking into it, spreading throughout him so that he appeared to be transforming into light and electricity, though his body maintained its shape and form. In seconds he had completed the initial Aetheric Exchange, transmitting his physicality into Aetheric information!

Albert wasted no time... exisiting in this state was dangerous to begin with... and sprinted directly at the wall in front of him, passing through it as if it were not there. Pure Aetheric energy did not interact with physical matter unless first shaped by the will and intellect of a trained Mage, and pure Aetheric energy was what Albert currently was. Even the remnants of his physical appearance, which had remained like an after image during the Exchange process, were shed outside, blowing apart with the thunderous crack of a point blank lightning strike, which had the side effect of destroying the ground Schemata that had ensured he did not lose parts of himself while in the Exchange process. Now invisible and intangible, but able to perceive with his senses regardless, Albert raced through the hidden FACTOR facility at the speed of thought, soon discovering an interior room that was heavily shielded against electricity and digital information flow. Within this room was a long table and about a dozen scientists of mingled genders, clad in lab coats as they discussed the recent happenings in the City's underworld.

 _Perfect. These appear to be administrators and senior researchers. If anyone can provide the information I desire, it will be these people. Now to make my first impressions..._ Albert braced himself once more, as the Exchange process was painful both coming and going. It was also loud and flashy, and somewhat destructive to the surrounding environment, as basically the reverse of what happened outside, now began to occur within the conference room. Out of nowhere the ghostly electric outline of his body and equipment appeared, shooting bolts of Voltaic and Aetheric energy everywhere, setting small fires, blasting out the lights, and shorting out the computers as the wail of gnashing gears and spinning gyroscopes competed with the crackle of voltaic energies to make an unearthly scream! A chorus of other screams from the scientists and administrators was drowned out by it, and finally a thunderclap overwhelmed everything else, throwing everyone to the floor as Albert's physical body reformed standing on the table. He sagged for a moment, swallowing a moan of pain so as to not ruin his entrance.

"Greetings, members of FACTOR! I am Albert Nikola Joule and I have come to speak about Espers..."

xxxx

 **District 3, ACME Hotel, around the same time**

"All right Wiley, we humored you, now tell us why we're here already. Don't make me have to make it an order." Vincent Lawe, Captain of the US Military, ACME Division, said in relaxed tones that hardly matched his posture. He was a big man, heavy with muscle through the chest and shoulders, tall at six foot four inches, and with deep coffee brown skin and short buzzed black hair. He had the Level 4 ferrokinetic power of Iron Armor, which allowed him to control ferrous metals freely, bending them and shaping them, even enhancing their properties such as density or hardness, as he willed, to form potent armor and weapons for his own use. Underneath his uniform he wore one of the most high tech personal enhancement bodysuits that the USA could produce, which improved his strength and speed, even when wearing his Power shaped armor and weapons. Though equal in rank and power level to his fellow Captain, Kurt Radcliffe, because Kurt's power was more espionage focused, Vincent was considered the second in command of the ACME detachment on this particular mission.

Vincent was leaning against the wall, arms crossed across his chest, watching with his bright blue eyes as Wiley fiddled with his AIM Jammer, retuning it from its former settings for some reason or other. Kurt was stretched out on the couch near the coffee table, legs up on one armrest, head on the other. He was only an inch shorter than Vincent, though somewhat less muscular, though not a beanpole like Wiley was. With pale, somewhat sunburnt skin, short cut blondish hair, and brown eyes, he was a fairly generic American in many ways. Whether his generic appearance was related to his Power, which was known as Stealth Bomber, also Level 4, allowing him to render himself invisible to all forms of visual and electronic detection for varying periods of time, was unknown. Sometimes he was teased about it, though given how useful his Power was for pulling pranks and getting his own back at people, few ACME members teased him more than once in a way he didn't like. He was idly flipping through a magazine, though his eyes were alert, darting around the room on a constant circuit of awareness.

"And why just the two of us? If this is important, why not bring it up at the next daily briefing?" Kurt added, his tone casual but his expression serious. "If you've noticed a threat or something, you know procedure is to inform the Major as soon as possible." In ACME, a program meant to foster close companionship and inter-reliance between its members as well as develop their Esper abilities, outside the public or formal situations, ranks were generally dropped between most of the Espers, as they were related to Power Level, not actual military accomplishment. The sole exception to this was of course Major Adelaide Findley, the Zephyr Queen, and Level 5. The gulf between her and the rest of them was wider than any, except perhaps that of Warrant Officer "John Doe" JD. Even when she wasn't around, she was almost always still "the Major" or "Major Findley" when they spoke about her, rather than "Adelaide".

"I've noticed something, Kurt, but whether it's a threat or not I don't know. I really hope it isn't, given the context." Wiley finished fiddling with the Jammer, satisfied that it was now jamming on frequencies that would interdict both Academy City eavesdroppers, and any ACME devices that their superiors might have ordered placed by their support detail. The topic he was about to bring up could be considered either slightly disloyal, or could result in High Command potentially losing some faith in the Major, and he didn't want either of those impressions to occur. This was an ACME internal matter, and by ACME he meant the Espers, not the Generals and Scientists who ran the program. Cold and distant as she might be, the Major was still the pride of ACME, and Wiley only wanted the best for her, not to get her in trouble.

Shorter and lankier than both Captains, with messy dark hair, pale skin that needed more sun and mossy green eyes that seemed perpetually unfocused and a bit cross eyed, Wiley, full name William E. MacTire, was perhaps the smartest Esper in ACME, though his peculiarities prevented his calculating ability from equaling his comprehension ability, so that his power level was only 3. His power was Black Box, which allowed for rapid comprehension and retention of all technological and scientific data, though he could only retain a limited number of data sets at any one time. Basically it allowed him to become a field expert on anything he read up on in a matter of hours, whether it be chemistry, biology, physics, Esper development, or even mundane topics like auto repair or cooking. It also gave him the faint ability to see AIM Diffusion fields in others, and analyze them to gain a hint as to how their powers worked and what they were.

"Have either of you noticed anything different about the Major in these last couple of days?" Wiley asked, both to give himself some more time to frame his concerns properly, and to see if the two Captains had noticed anything themselves.

"I dunno. Maybe?" Kurt frowned in thought. "She's always distant, but she's been going off on her own a lot lately, even though we're not technically supposed to go into the City in groups less than 2 or 3. But she's the Major. She can take care of herself just fine. Kinda seems like she might have something on her mind, but she's the Commanding Officer, I bet there's all sorts of stuff she has on her mind all the time."

"She has been a little lackluster in her mission assignments." Vincent said, as neutrally as he could. He was possessed of a more aggressive personality than the Major, who was more methodical and deliberate. When she held back to assess and scout objectives, he preferred to push forward to achieve those objectives. Lingering about in potentially hostile territory like Academy City, was not his idea of the best time. They were here to make an impression on the locals and see what sort of secrets and local intel they could scare up, then go home to digest it all and contemplate whatever the next move was from there. As far as he judged it, they were still only partway done with the "make an impression" part of things, and progress seemed stalled. Yes, there had been a "terror attack" that could have been a covert hit against them, but that was no excuse to fall back into a holding pattern like they seemed to be in now. If someone was attacking them, then they ought to strike back and remove the threat in no uncertain terms!

"That she has been. Especially after discovering a potential asset of amazing theoretical power. Neither of you have yet encountered the City Guide named Touma Kamijou have you? The one paired with the Level 4 Teleporter girl from Tokiwadai?" Wiley responded, fidgeting as he lowered himself into a chair opposite Kurt and the couch. An excess of nervous energy was one of his many peculiarities, and it only grew more pronounced when he was anxious, as he was now.

"Average looking guy, medium tall, medium build, spiky black hair, dark eyes?" Kurt answered, immediately calling him to mind. As a trained spy, he always cataloged the appearances of people he saw, especially if he saw them more than once. "What about him?"

"Yeah, get to the damn point Wiley. I don't like secret meetings. If there's a problem, you should send it up the chain of command in the proper way. I vaguely remember the kid, but he never leapt out at me as important. Really, the only thing that I noticed about him was that he seemed out of place compared to the other City Guides. They were all elites from prestigious schools and shit, and he looks like a regular joe sorta guy." Vincent rumbled.

"If there is a problem, Vince, I don't want to send it up the chain of command, because they might get upset with the Major for not reporting it to them. Which she hasn't. I'm actually breaking her direction... not an order, as it would have been illegal, but her direction as my CO... to tell you that she hasn't communicated what we discovered up the chain of command, and has put me and Melanie under direction not to do so ourselves." Wiley frowned, uncomfortable with what he was doing, as even an irregular guy like him had the chain of command and its sacred inviolability stamped into him by his military training. But necessary things and comfortable things weren't always the same. "I'll put it plain. As far as I can tell, Touma Kamijou has the power to negate other Esper abilities via touch. Even Level 5 abilities like the Major's."

"Bullshit!" Kurt sat upright, his eyes wide at that idea. "If something like that existed, we would know about it, surely! If Academy City had an Esper who could negate all other Espers, they would have the ultimate trump card! The Esper race would be already over and done!"

"Kurt has a point, Wiley. A crazy power like that... what, is he the 6th Level 5 of Academy City? I guess that might explain why he was chosen to be a City Guide despite looking like an average joe..." Vincent said consideringly.

"He claims to be a Level 0. And as far as I can tell, he does not possess any discernible AIM Diffusion field. I walked with him for several blocks in the Major's company a few days ago, and had plenty of time to analyze him, but I could find nothing. Maybe he was negating my ability somehow, but it didn't feel like I was powerless, just that I couldn't get any reading on him." Wiley replied with a frown, still struggling to comprehend how that could work. "And before you ask, no, he's not a Gemstone. I've analyzed them before, and the readings come back distorted and nonsensical, but there are readings to be had."

"Now it's my turn to call bullshit." Vincent said, a bit angrily. "The power to negate any other power, regardless of what it is, and he calls that level 0? Shit man, if he can do that, he's the strongest goddamn Esper in the whole fucking world! Makes Accelerator look like a chump!"

"I saw him cancel out the Major's wind with my own eyes. He just made a swiping motion with his hand when she was blowing at him, like what she does when she's trying to put a shiver down your spine, and there was an odd noise, and suddenly her wind was gone completely. I've never seen the Major look so stunned before. She didn't even react when he ran off and left us there in the street after that." Wiley frowned even deeper. "Later that same day was the first time she went off into the City by herself, and she came back looking a bit worked up, like she'd been on the training range for a bit, but also thoughtful and maybe even a little happy. Like something good or fun had happened to her."

"Major Findley does not have "fun", it's not in her blood." Kurt retorted with a strained smile. "But you're right Wiley, she SHOULD have reported this to the brass already. Hell, this could be game changing, she should have made a special report immediately! I wonder why she hasn't done so?"

"I don't know. But you're right about it being game changing. If his power really can negate any Esper ability... well, wouldn't that mean he's a hard counter even to JD's Mob Rule?" Wiley postulated, causing a sudden and heavy silence to descend on the room as they all took that in.

"Holy fucking shit..." Vincent cursed under his breath, his eyes wide with the implications. JD, also known as "Hysteria" to ACME, was their single strongest potential Esper, however, his power existed permanently in a state of overrun, so that he required constant and heavy duty sedation to prevent it from running out of control. In the field he was generally a liability, a useless burden that had to be heavily protected and watched over at all times. Until you stopped his happy, sleepy drugs. Then he became the Esper equivalent of a weaponized, airborne strain of Ebola Virus! Though Academy City had more level 5's, the great hope of America's ACME program for power equivalency between the two superpowers in the Esper arena was in using Major Findley, the Zephyr Queen, as a defensive measure for the homeland to interdict aircraft and surface naval vessels. Warrant Officer JD would in turn be smuggled into the same country as the enemy and then simply taken off his drugs and let nature runs its course, then clean up with a long range cruise missile strike on JD. A one use weapon, but one without any known counter.

Until now. If Touma Kamijou could negate Esper powers of any level, then even Mob Rule, the most terrifying power ever discovered and engineered by ACME, might be useless against him. Especially if Kamijou was deployed early on, before Mob Rule reached a large portion of the local populace, America's last resort and ultimate trump card might amount to little more than a wet fart! And in that case, any conflict with Academy City could not fail to be a loss for America in the long run. This completely changed the entire strategic picture they had of Academy City! "I'm sure the Major has her reasons for not reporting this to the Brass." Wiley hastened to say. "No one is questioning the Major's loyalties or commitments to ACME or the USA, least of all me. She's the most patriotic person I know. But for once I worry that she might be letting her own personal feelings interfere with her good judgement. You guys would have to see it to understand it, but the way Touma Kamijou interacted with the Major... I don't think anyone has ever treated her like that..."

"Like what?" Kurt asked, curious.

"Like... like she was... like she was normal. Like she was just an 18 year old girl, and a pushy, arrogant one that needed a kick on the ass to get her off a bad path in life. I mean, not just sarcastic back talk or trash talk, but actually scolding her and admonishing her. He even promised to "destroy her illusions", whatever that means, right before he negated her power. It was like he couldn't see the Level 5 Zephyr Queen, all he saw was Adelaide Findley." Wiley answered thoughtfully.

"Well, if he can negate any Esper power, then I imagine he can talk as much smack as he wants, to any Esper, and what can they do about it?" Vincent said sourly.

"Nah, that's not it, Vince. He wasn't trying to pick a fight with her, the opposite if anything. He seemed... concerned... about her, like a mentor about their student, worrying that they might be subscribing to toxic thinking and wanting to show them a better way to live their life. The Major was doing her best to provoke him, and eventually kind of succeeded, but for most of it he was just trying to do his best to help her become a better person. He even promised to come and save her if she was ever in trouble. And he meant it. Like not just "wanted" to do it, but was "confident and assured" that he could do it, and would do it." Wiley replied, trying to explain it.

"So what, you think the Major might have a soft spot in her efficient, workaholic heart for this Anti-Esper kid? This ain't a teenage drama soap opera, Wiley. It ain't like the Major's gonna start falling in love with this guy just because he can ignore that she's a Level 5 and promises to be her knight in shining armor. Shit like that don't happen in real life." Kurt said with a sneer.

"Well then how else can you explain why she's not reporting this to the Brass?" Wiley shot back. "I respect the Major more than anyone in ACME, but I worry she's lost her objectivity in this particular case, and I'm worried that if it eventually comes to light in the future, it's going to put a lot of tension between her and the Brass, and that's bad for the whole program! I'm not going to tell on her, and I know neither of you will either, but the problem still needs to be addressed!"

"So what are you saying then, Wiley? Are we plotting a little mutiny here or something? I'd rather just confront the Major about this directly. She's the most rational woman I know, if she doesn't realize what she's doing and we point it out, that could fix it all easily enough." Vincent said sternly.

"In the past I would agree with you, Vince. But I've never seen the Major act like this before, so I'm not so sure we can rely on her acting rational when she's already acting strange. Worst comes to worst, she might give us all Orders to be silent about this, and then it WOULD be a mutiny if we did anything else. No, focusing on the Major's end of this situation won't get us anywhere. We gotta deal with this problem at its source. We have to deal with Touma Kamijou, one way or another. Either capture him and interrogate him until we understand his power, and maybe even spirit him off back home for further study and retraining as part of ACME... or if that's not possible, then I pose that we need to eliminate him, with prejudice. And without the Major's knowledge or involvement." Wiley said, letting it sink in for a moment.

"If we get caught, they'll have our heads. Could be considered an act of war." Kurt said neutrally.

"If the Major finds out we're going behind her back on something like this, she'll throw us all out into the sea from a kilometer up and make us swim back home." Vincent added, for the more personal stakes.

"If we succeed we'd be heroes. I'm sure they'd give us medals." Wiley replied with a shrug.

"Fuck that noise." Vincent growled. "I could give less of a shit about heroics or chest candy. If we're doing this, its to help the Major so she doesn't get in hot water with the Brass. I don't agree with the way she runs this mission, but the Major is the best soldier in ACME, and she protects the rest of us from a lot of Brass bullshit on a daily basis, just by being the overachiever and hard charger that she is. If something about this Kamijou kid is dulling her edge for whatever reason, then we definitely gotta do something about him."

"I'm in." Kurt said fiercely. "The less notice I get, from the Brass or the enemy, the more I like it. And if they start investigating her, they're going to investigate all of us. I don't need that shit in my life. And this Kamijou guy sounds dangerous, especially if he can get to the Major like this. Capture or kill, I don't see a better solution. So how we gonna do this then?"

"Well I have some ideas about that..." Wiley said, smiling a bit like his cartoon namesake.


	19. Masterminds and Mind Controllers

**Author Note:**

NoName: I've sent a PM as part of a reply, but to address the end of your review, ACME is acting not just for Major Adelaide, but also to remove a potential threat to their country's ultimate Esper weapon. If they can achieve that, even if Academy City does declare war, America has a chance of winning said war. It is certainly a risk. But no moreso than a good chance at potentially destroying the Soviet Union's Anti-Missile Nuclear defense system (if they had such a thing) during the Cold War would have been. And much crazier plots than that were enacted by all sides during that period.

As for Albert Joule getting into the City, that's never seemed to stop a great portion of the Magicians in the canon series from getting in pretty much whenever they want. Maybe Styil and Kanzaki come in through the border checkpoint or on official flights, but most of the antagonists had to have gotten into the city illegally. Academy City's border protection is either entirely corrupt, incompetent, or filled with agents acting under secret orders to look the other way in most cases. I mean, forget individual magicians, there was that entire battalion of Roman Catholic nuns with swords and axes and maces and stuff, that got into the city. Not to mention the members of God's Right Seat, etc. No, the border security of Academy City is, to me, just like its regular security. There to make the public feel safe, without actually doing anything to protect the city or its populace in most cases. They mostly clean up messes, rather than stop the messes from happening in the first place. When Aleister wants to stop a problem, he has more effective tools to use than Anti-Skill.

321jaz: Seems I was a little oversensitive, my apologies. But I promise you, I will be doing my absolute best not to create overpowered characters. That's why I'm avoiding Magic Gods, for instance. I feel I can do just fine with lower level enemies and problems. About the only character that is probably a bit overpowered is JD, but he can't act on his own and has to be deployed as a single use weapon. Though if you feel one of my characters is approaching that level, please do tell me, and I will see what I can do about it. As for your question about God's Right Seat, serendipity! This chapter should hopefully address that concern in part. It is difficult to determine what Aleister considers "messing" with Touma, given the sorts of things he has allowed him to do, or have happen to him, canonically. A straight up murder attempt might be off limits, but I'm not sure much else is.

Guest: Given that Sven and Izarde are two of the three main Evil villains (there are non-evil antagonists as well, much of ACME and the Russian agents for instance), so I can assure you, Touma will indeed come into conflict with them, more than once.

RPGpersona: Good to see you paying attention to all the little details. It is always a pleasure to have my hints and foreshadowings picked up on.

A Certain Guest: Of course Aleister already knows. Anything that happens within Academy City proper is definitely something that Aleister knows about, that's more or less a default assumption of mine. And a great deal of things outside the city proper as well, but definitely everything inside the city. Reference my reply to NoName above though, about the soldier's being idiots. Don't confuse your own personal knowledge about the series and the dangers their actions pose, with what the characters know when making their decisions. To our near omniscient knowledge, many actions characters might take could seem foolish, stupid or idiotic. But to those characters, with their more limited knowledge and misinterpretations of data, their chosen actions make sense and might seem like the best course of action. I wouldn't consider it too much different to deploying SEALs to kill Osama Bin Laden in Pakistan, and the USA did that, despite the possible reprecussions of doing a Black Op in another country without asking permission first. Again, in the To-Aru universe, the world tensions are much closer to actual Cold War between the various factions, not the relative peacetime of our real world. Riskier actions are more common in such a situation as all sides jockey for advantage.

In my view of the setting, Aleister is less omniscient and omni-powerful than he is in canon. He may have attempted to interfere in the Esper development programs of other countries, and succeeded to the point where even with their vastly larger resources (Academy City is rich, sure, but there's no way it can be anywhere close to as rich as Russia or the USA, with only 2.3 million residents, most of whom don't pay taxes or even work at all) that their Esper programs are inferior to Academy City's by a substantial margin. But he can't prevent the programs entirely, cannot monopolize Espers soley to Academy City as he does in Canon. As for Aleister's opinion on individual Espers, I think he regards them all more or less equally. He has multiple plans in action after all, and whichever ends up succeeding works for him. Most plans involve Accelerator or Kakine of course, but I'm sure Aleister has covered all of his bases, except maybe with Gunha, since that is a power than cannot be replicated or improved artificially. In the end, all of them are ultimately disposable, even if it means he has to wait another whole generation for a new crop of Level 5's... he's got the time after all.

Aleister has near absolute control over Academy City and all that goes on within it. I just don't feel like giving him that level of power throughout most of the world, as he seems to have in Canon. Simply put, Espers exist elsewhere because Aleister doesn't have the power to stop other, more traditional superpowers, from creating them, though he can at least ensure that his Espers are the best and most numerous. Very similar to nuclear weapon proliferation in the real world. Or how the Roman Catholic Church has the Right Seat of God, but other powerful Magic side organizations still manage to exist.

xxxx

 **London, St. George's Cathederal, Archbishop's quarters, October 6th, Evening**

"Are you absolutely sure you know what you're doing, Aleister?" The young looking woman asked, her tone studiously neutral as she half glanced at the video monitor of the securely encrypted communication device. It was about the size of a modern laptop computer, an excellent example of Academy City's highest technologies, allowing instantaneous voice and video communications across the world without delays, interruptions, signal degradation or any chance of being listened in on by anyone else. While most Magicians were rather somewhat hopeless when it came to advanced technologies, especially ones from Academy City, she did not have that luxury. In public she often pretended to be rather clueless about the modern world, often simply for the fun of it to annoy her more straitlaced subordinates. In private, especially in the company of this particular man, there were no need for such pretenses. There were still pretenses between them of course, if anything she was even more on her guard than usual, but that particular act was dropped.

"I never get tired of being asked that." Aleister Crowley, Superintendent of Academy City, replied dryly, his features on the video screen appearing at normal orientation for his caller, rather than upside down as he normally would be when meeting in person. "Archbishop, you of all people should know that anything that happens within my City, happens only because I allow it to. While some plans might be disrupted and discarded, the vast majority proceed unimpeded, and new plans are created to address new issues as they crop up."

"I am glad to hear you are still confident." Laura Stewart, Archbishop of the English Angelican Church, and one of the most pwoerful and influential Magicians in the entire world, replied with equal dryness. "I do not dispute your control over your City. It has remained in your grip from the moment you founded it, and despite the best efforts of many, including at times myself, no one has been able to shake it loose from your hands just yet. I do however, feel concern that recent actions on several fronts might be stirring up trouble from places outside your City, that you cannot control so easily."

"Enlighten me then. What concerns you so much that you would call me ahead of our regularly scheduled meetings?" Aleister almost seemed to smile for a moment, but Laura refused to rise to even the most subtle of provocations.

"As if you do not know." Laura answered bluntly. "You told us that there was a Necromancer causing trouble in your City. As per our usual and long lasting agreement regarding the official balance of power between Magic and Science, we sent an agent to deal with the issue. However that agent found the Necromancer to be rather more than just a simple trouble-making Magician, and even suffered a humiliating defeat in the process... a very rare event for this particular agent. While I believe I have contained the news of this encounter solely to my own Church for the time being, it is certain that news of it will spread soon enough. The defeat of a Saint, even by a monster as she reported, will not go unaddressed by the powers of Magic, especially if it happened within your City."

"He is a Necromancer, and quite an ancient one too. It is not my fault that Kaori Kanzaki, that dear girl, assumed that he was ONLY a Necromancer, and then further assumed that he was a Saint like herself. Looks like the Church's editing and censoring of religious history regarding Magic came back to bite you all in the nether regions there, doesn't it? It sounds like this will be a learning experience for her, an opportunity for growth. She should be thankful, really." Aleister did not move, not even an eyebrow, but Laura got the impression of a nonchalant shrug all the same. "As for what other Magic groups and persons might do upon learning of her humbling, well, that has never been within my control. It may have happened within my City, but it wasn't like it happened by my order."

"But you control everything in your City. As you say, nothing happens within it, that you do not allow. That is well known. And that means that you caused a Saint to be deployed to your City, and then allowed her to suffer a humiliating defeat, temporarily removing her from play, and greatly embarrassing Necessarius and the English Angelican Church, weakening our position in the eyes of many of our rivals. Of course, Science had no direct hand in her difficulties, and you even helped expedite her recovery, for which I am grateful of course. But the indirect hand you had in matters, will be enough to provoke those already looking for provocation. Do not think that the Roman Catholics are going to simply lie down and take what you caused to happen to the Queen of the Adriatic Sea and her fleet, the most powerful naval force the Roman Catholic's possessed!" Laura warned, though personally she was rather impressed with what Aleister had managed to do with that situation, and with such small expenditure of resources too.

"They have no grounds to complain. By their own admission regarding the incident, the Bishop involved was rogue and did not have the authority to make use of the Fleet in a pre-emptive attack against Academy City. That would be a brutal act of war, perhaps even genocide after all, hardly fitting for a religion of peace and love, correct?" Aleister's sarcasm was biting, even if it barely colored his tone.

"A polite fiction to save face, as you well know. Had that madman succeeded, he would have been a candidate for the Papacy the next time it opened up. They wished to attempt a surprise attack, hoping your guard was down. For some reason they keep underestimating you, even after all their prior failures. But perhaps no longer." Laura frowned, disturbed by this particular bit of information not a little herself. "I have reliable information that the Right Seat of God is now taking a personal interest in Academy City and the Imagine Breaker, whom they are in the process of having the Pope declare a writ of Diabolus Haereticus upon due to his power to apparently deny God. And somehow the Catholics seem to be negotiating with the Russian Orthodoxy for a form of truce or cease fire in their ongoing skirmishing, which would free up a great deal of the Catholic's covert and magical forces. I fear it likely that they may be planning a new Secret Crusade or Inquisition targeting Academy City and Imagine Breaker. Once news of Kanzaki's defeat gets out, especially paired with the fact that the monster who defeated her remains in Academy City, apparently under your aegis, or at least by your permission, it could easily be the impetus to start open conflict."

"Not unexpected. You religious types never react reasonably to having your hand smacked from poking something you really ought to simply leave alone." Aleister said in bored tones. "A few thousand years of cultural hegemony have spoiled most of you and rendered you unable to emotionally accept the fact that you rule this world no longer. You do know that denying objective reality could be considered a quality of being an Esper right? And yet so much religious leadership indulges in it on a daily basis. Perhaps I should offer to put them through my Program? They might easily end up as Level 4's and 5's."

"The power of the Church... of all Churches... has decayed somewhat over the last century or so, especially with the advent of Academy City." Laura acknowledged, because she at least didn't deny the obvious in favor of comforting herself. "But I feel you may be taking us too lightly. While I will do my best to stay out of the brewing war, unless one side or the other appears to be winning overwhelmingly, it may be that the Russian Orthodoxy and the Roman Catholics will actually ally over this matter, and potentially bring in other major denominations from across the world. Perhaps even call upon old ties with the Islamists and Jewish Orthodoxy to create an Abrahamic Alliance. The other major religions will probably sit things out, as I will, but depending on how things go could join later. This could very well be the start of a grand war of Magic vs Science. And Academy City, while powerful, cannot stand against such an Alliance alone..."

"Why do you assume I would be alone? Academy City is not the sole source of Espers in the world. I have delegations of Espers from several powerful nations visiting my City right now actually. What an... unfortunate... thing it would be, if they were caught up in a full bore Magic assault upon my City. That might even provoke their Nations into joining a coalition with Academy City, to deal with this threat from the dying and decaying and obsolete forces of Magic and religious superstition. EKG would relish the opportunity to settle scores with the Russian Orthodoxy and try to purge them from their influence in the Russian government, I know that. And the Americans have never been as influenced or controlled by the major religions as you all have wished with their whole separation of Church and State dynamic, and especially if the Islamist's join an Alliance, they might be only too happy to extend their Middle Eastern proxy wars into a more direct conflict if it means breaking the power of Fundamental Islam for good." Aleister smiled coldly. "And of course I do possess the Imagine Breaker, the ultimate trump card."

"He is also the only person in your City whom you cannot control, and have admitted as much. You can predict him to a degree, but what if he chooses not to assist you?" Laura countered.

"That is impossible in that sort of situation. The attacks upon Academy City would be indiscriminate and vindictive, as you well know. Civilian casualties would be immense if Academy City's defenses were to fail. That boy would never stand by and allow such a tragedy to occur. He, and his nascent faction of allies and supporters, would lead the charge to defend the City even, quite without any need to intervene on my part. The boy is yet still in the Egg phase, as you know. Such a conflict might cause him to hatch though, and once that growth begins, my trump card will only grow more and more overwhelming. I wonder though, do the Catholics and their petulant allies realize what sort of sleeping giant... or rather Dragon... they are threatening to awake with their childish aggression? Given their posturing and their secret plans according to you, it seems doubtful. What comes next may be less a smack on the hand for being naughty, and more like pulling back a stump where their hand used to be..." Aleister sounded supremely confident, and perhaps had reason to be.

"Regardless, the world will be thrown into chaos and confusion. It will be a world war unlike any before it. A storm will rage across this globe of ours, and dye its waters red with blood, regardless of who wins, if anyone wins at all." Laura did not say such as a protest, merely stating a fact.

"Is that so awful? Remember that the world often grows greener and brighter once a storm has burned away the old growth and washed off all the dirt and mud and grime that stains things. It's not a thing to be feared, just part of the natural cycles of the world. I for one, am quite interested to see what the world will become in the wake of such a storm." Aleister smiled again, beatifically.

"And what of the Hollow Ones, this new Dark Cabal, that is apparently burrowing into the flesh of your city like a tick?" Laura asked with a small frown.

"What of them? For now they amuse me, and could even unintentionally serve me, either by provoking this storm, or in other ways. I believe that their leader, Lord Izarde, possesses knowledge of the Imagine Breaker and at least some of its potential. Their goal as he stated is to bring chaos and anarchy to the world and transform it in the process, and I believe he intends to try and awaken the Dragon fully in order to accomplish this."

"That's insanity. If the Dragon of Destruction ever escapes the Imagine Breaker, it would doom this entire world at the least, and potentially all of Creation!" Laura was shocked that Aleister could speak of such things so calmly.

"Obviously I will not allow this to occur. A partial Awakening though, could serve my needs quite well, especially if it begins to occur before the storm of war breaks upon us. Once Izarde and his monsters have served their purpose and grown tiresome, I will dispose of them, or turn them over to your side for disposal, whichever is most expedient. But for the time being, they represent a refreshing breath of chaos in my ordered City... a micro-storm, you could say. I will be regarding with interest what effects this new variable has on my Grand Experiment." Aleister did the non-moving shrug again.

"What about these reports I'm getting of an independent Mage traipsing around your City? This Albert Nikola Joule? I hear he's starting to poke his nose about regarding Esper Development? Our file on him indicates he's mostly harmless, especially as he refuses to join any religious sponsored cabal. He can be easily eliminated at any time. Or could be, until he entered your City, with shocking ease, even for your border security. His brand of Magic, this Technomagic... what are your intentions regarding him?" Laura moved on to another topic of interest.

"An interesting case. One of the few truly non-hostile Magicians in the world, regarding Science. Also, as you say, a true independent with no ties to any religious authority or Magical organization. A rarity in these days. If you are asking if I am harboring and protecting him, perhaps I am. He presents some intriguing possibilities for interacting with and potentially even improving some edge case examples of Esper powers. You are of course aware of the Parameter List I use in order to decide which Esper candidates are most worth expending effort on to improve in order to find a useful place within my plans. However there are examples of Espers with very useful powers, which the Parameter List declares not worth the cost of developing due to the astronomical resource costs involved, using the standard methodologies or Scientific technology as we currently understand and possess it." Aleister quirked his lips slightly.

"But what about this Technomagic discipline? It is in some ways fairly close to Science. While of course an Esper can never become a Mage or vice versa, they can still be affected by Magic without suffering Dissonance feedback. Perhaps the boy will come up with some way of improving Esper abilities, especially edge case ones, to a useful level, using his Technomagic and artificer skills. It could never be mass produced of course. But another potential level 4 or even level 5 in my arsenal, and one I would have to invest little or no City resources in gaining, would be quite an achievement. And since this Joule boy owes no allegiance or ties to most of Magic, I can allow him to work without risking him or his research being turned against me. There may be some collateral damage to civil order in the process, but gaining a new Level 5 is worth that, easily. Mr. Joule is also a potential new recruit for the Kamijou faction, and could serve as an effective bridge between the Magical and Science sides of that Faction, improving its overall effectiveness and coordination. There are many upsides to keeping the boy around and protected, and few downsides." Aleister continued blandly.

"Ah, so you're going to treat him like the Index then?" Laura asked, perhaps a bit pointedly. "A resource for the Kamijou faction and a draw for conflict regarding it so that they can gain battle experience at relatively low risk over time. I was initially behind your reasoning for allowing her to stay within the City, certainly it is a relief on my organization and the resources we would need to keep her safe ourselves. But with a war brewing, I think it is now time for you to return her to us for safekeeping. It would not be good if the Roman Catholics or Russian Orthodoxy, or any other major group, got hold of her and her 103,000 Grimoires during the chaos of war. They would absue and misuse her knowledge."

"She will not be going anywhere without a fight. I trust you to use her fairly as much as I do any religious organization, that is to say, not at all." Aleister retorted seriously. "Bad enough that you perverted my intentions for her by turning her into the Index in the first place, I will not allow you to use her as a weapon or political favor in your petty religious squabbling any more. She is as safe as she can be, and happy, in the Kamijou Faction. That is where she will stay."

"Oh my..." Laura covered her mouth in coquettish mockery. "Sentiment? From you? Pardon me while I swoon..."

"I am not without human failings. You know that better than anyone." Aleister answered coldly.

"So what, you want her to live a normal life? Even in your Fortress of Science, you must know that is impossible. What was done to her cannot be undone, not by you, not by me, not even by Imagine Breaker. She is the Index now, and will always be at the center of controversy and conflict. She may be happy, but she will never know peace, not in this flawed world of ours. And now that the memory containment ritual has been abolished, you know what will happen to her, especially with her Mana still largely sealed. Are you just going to sit by and watch that happen, Aleister? Your Science is helpless against her condition. If she's to have any real chance of a life, even if it is one of isolation and misery, you know that the memory containment must be re-instated and the link to the other maintenance rituals re-established. Keeping her like she is, isn't a solution. In the long run, its a death sentence. It is her fate now." Laura retorted, equally as coldly.

"Do not speak to me of fate." Aleister responded with a deep frown. "Once my dream is complete, fate will no longer trouble her or anyone else. She will survive until that time comes, I will ensure it. Afterwards, she will no longer be bound by fate and it will be a non-issue."

"Your dream is just that, a flight of fancy. You have no idea if it's actually possible or not. No one has ever done it, or even come close. All you have is your desperate theories and wild hopes, as usual. For a man of Science, you sure do have a lot of Faith in the unknowable..."

"Is now the time to drag this up again? I thought we settled on agreeing to disagree long ago."

"I suppose not. But Aleister, if war does break out, I will send people to collect the Index, and I will not rest until she is safely back under my guardianship. Resist me too hard, and I may have to renege on my promise to keep the Angelicans out of the wider war." Laura warned him.

"In the parlance of the street youth of my city, "bring it, bitch". I will not allow her to be your pawn again, any more than she already is given what you did to her." Aleister warned right back. "It appears that we are at an impasse on this situation though. I have better things to do with my time than argue with you. You will act as you see fit, and so will I. Thus it has always been, and always will be, between us. Until the next time, my dear Archbishop." Aleister ended the call before Laura could reply, the screen turning to static then black.

"That man is so annoying." Laura said to her empty room, sighing in irritation. Well, it wasn't like she'd expected him to be any different. And he was correct. Though partners of convenience, especially in these latter years, they had never been allies, not in this past century anyway. Their self interests had coincided often as of late, but such a situation could not last forever. Perhaps the tides were turning as the storm brewed overhead. If so, she would need to begin her own preparations. "Bring it... indeed..." Laura smiled in a way that would have sent chills down the spine of anyone to see it.

xxxx

 **Academy City, Tokiwadai Middle School, October 7th, Morning**

Misaki Shokuhou, the acknowledged Queen of Tokiwadai, held her morning court in the usual place for the autumn and winter months, an upper veranda around the third floor of the Arts and Cultural building on the school campus. A combination art gallery, drama theater, performing arts center and classroom complex, the building was located near the center of the campus, though somewhat to the rear of the main school building. Away from the sports fields and Esper training arenas on the front grounds, it was a quiet place of reflection and dignified creation, with just the proper air of importance and gravity necessary for one of her status in the school. In summer and spring she held court in the outdoor eating area along the back of the main school building, but it was too cold for comfort now. Food and drinks were delivered by special order from the school cafeteria to the upper veranda, which doubled as a VIP viewing area for when the Arts and Cultural building was being used for events.

Seated in a comfortable chair with a table by her side, Misaki had several plates of confectionery breakfast dishes arranged within easy reach. Sweet and sugary things, especially morning treats like donuts, cinnamon rolls, eclairs and other pastries, were a significant weakness of hers. Any smart petitioner approaching the Queen for a favor would do well to come bearing at least one example of such a treat, preferably one the Queen had never tasted before. She really had to struggle not to over-indulge in them on a daily basis, despite knowing what a pain it would be to have to work the excess calories out of her figure after going on a binge. She'd even gone so far as to program a few of her closest hangers-on to be strict with her regarding the matter, even taking food away from her sometimes. Of course, in the heat of the moment, she sometimes overrode that programming anyway, but at least she was trying...

She was dressed in her standard school attire, the Tokiwadai uniform with long white gloves almost to her shoulder, and white stockings nearly to the hem of her skirt. Her shoulder bag filled with remotes and other knick-knacks was placed by her side, within easy reach should she desire or require it. Her hair was perfectly washed and combed out, tasks she had some of her clique members help her with fairly often. The pampering wasn't necessary, she could and did sometimes handle it on her own. But after the life she'd lived, first as a Child Error and then an experimental subject, she felt that indulging herself in luxury now that she had the chance to do so, was not inappropriate. Some might disagree with the way she used her powers to ensure she had her luxuries whenever she wanted them, chief amongst them being privacy and sweet treats, but Misaki found it difficult to care about what noisy tomboy level 5's who didn't even realize what a great life they had and were largely wasting anyway, felt about how she lived her own life.

All the moreso when that noisy tomboy Level 5 had access to the one luxury that Misaki wished for above all others, but was forever denied to her by her own inadequate actions in the past. She had no one to blame but herself, for rushing that attempt at assisting her Prince when he needed her. She had saved his life, yes. But in so doing she had forever destroyed any possibility of them having a happy life together as she wanted so badly. He could not remember her, as soon as she passed from his view, it would be like they were meeting again for the first time. And she could not force her Prince to live a life in such a one sided partnership, not after everything he had done for her. It was a bittersweet situation, heavy on the bitter. And yes, she did resent Misaka for how she could be around him and even fall for him, while still having a chance for those feelings to actually mean something, result in something! It wasn't fair of her to do so... she knew that. But life wasn't fair. That was for sure!

However it wasn't Misaka and the way the tomboy level 5 had been getting very close with her Prince in the last few weeks, that was raising Misaki's ire on this particular day. Instead it was a less personal but no less troubling situation involving her domination of the Tokiwadai social scene. By creating the strongest and largest clique, filled with wealthy and powerful and influential students, Misaki was able to control matters within the school, and to a degree outside it, to ensure that she could live whatever life she wanted without outside interference. She'd had more than enough of that during the Exterior project. In the end, Misaki just wanted to be Free. Free to do what she wanted with her life. Even if that meant she had to enslave others in order to ensure her freedom. It wouldn't be permanent, at least. And she took care not to harm their personalities or memories, in most cases. Was it moral to do so? Perhaps not. But morality interested her less than Freedom did. Let Railgun worry about saving the world or the people in it, Mental Out just wanted to live a good and safe and happy life away from as many of the horrors of Academy City as she could.

But something now threatened to interfere with Misaka's freedom, by eroding her power base in the school. While her clique was not the only clique, it was by far the strongest and most influential, and was either allied with or secretly puppeteering all the other cliques in the school, aside from the so called "Misaka clique", which was different from the Misaka Fan Club which was under Misaki's control, and used to annoy the other Level 5 whenever she felt the need for some amusement. The actual Misaka clique was just Misaka, Shirai, Kongou and Kongou's two friends, who were in no other cliques. Far too small a group, especially with Misaka's social disinterest, to pose any threat to Misaki. The cliques maintained their power from school year to school year by ruthlessly stamping out any efforts to start new cliques, such as Kongou had tried to do at first, ensuring that new students would be recruited only into existing cliques rather than forming their own.

So it had been during Misaki's whole time in Tokiwadai... which was, as Misaka had wondered one time, perhaps just a trifle longer than the two years of Middle School that most student's got. Not that anyone aside from Misaki would ever know the truth of that. Tokiwadai was the first place she had ever truly called Home after all, and she was reluctant to leave it, as long as she could even somewhat pass for a Middle Schooler. But getting to the problem that vexed Misaki at the moment, things were not working out as they usually did. Though the new foreign transfer student had only been at school a few days now, she was already bucking the usual trends and distorting the school's social scene! Never mind that she should never have been allowed to transfer mid-term at all, and especially not without Misaki first vetting her, as she did all new students, to ensure she wasn't a threat to her! Everyone made a big deal about that one Princess that had been denied entry to the school because she wasn't a strong enough Esper. That had been her work... the Princess's detected power type had been far too close to her own, and if allowed to develop, might have threatened her hold on the school, so she made sure that application got binned in no uncertain terms!

But this new girl, Claudia Corbowitz, had somehow conspired to bypass all of Misaki's warning networks, that should have allowed her to investigate the girl thoroughly before her application to the school was processed. A great deal of money had certainly been involved, but there was more to it than that. Misaki had hardwired mental programming into the school staff and administration that should have alerted her to any attempts at bribery to bypass or expedite the transfer or acceptance process, but somehow none of them had been triggered. Misaki had, at length, managed to get a copy of the girl's information, and found it puzzling. The girl was rated as a Level 3 Physical Enhancement Esper. Common enough, and certainly no threat to Misaki, as the brawny types could be easily controlled by Mental Out without them even realizing it. But then how did the girl get into the school without tripping Misaki's alarms? Something did not add up.

All the moreso because Claudia was busily creating her own new clique, who called themselves La Famille Incarnat, or the Crimson Family, identified by a vivid red accessory, often in the form of a heart shaped bandage or ribbon worn on the lower side of the neck and collarbone. In a matter of a few days her numbers had swelled from just here, to several dozen girls, many of them longtime members of other cliques! They had confronted Claudia, to lay down the law and explain how things worked at this school, socially speaking. But all of them had converted to La Famille Incarnat instead! Including even some of Misaki's deep cover and mentally programmed pawns that were seeded into other cliques to ensure the staus quo was maintained! They should have been physically unable to join Claudia's clique, but had done so regardless! Her mental programs had all been erased somehow, when she checked again, which was worrying to say the least.

La Famille Incarnat was now the fourth largest clique in the school, and the fastest growing! A dozen or more students defected from existing cliques with every passing day, and the trend if anything only seemed to be speeding up! Her own dominance over the school was not yet threatened, but it could be if things went on. That was intolerable. So Misaki had, this morning, called up some of her most fervent lieutenants and sycophants within her clique. Girls who were loyal to her both because Misaki made them be, and because they wished to be, because they admired her personally. She had charged them with taking some of the more combat capable members of the clique to "interview" the new girl and make sure it was properly impressed upon her that she was not going to be allowed to grow a power base that might threaten the Queen. Even if they had to get a little rough in the process. She would use Mental Out to smooth over trouble with the teachers and administration. It was distasteful to resort to legbreaking tactics like out of a underwold mob, but difficult times called for difficult measures.

 _Where are they? It's been an hour. Surely they should have resolved this situation by now?_ Misaka thought in annoyance, stuffing another cinnamon roll into her mouth to help contain her ill feeling. Stress eating was not good for her, but she indulged anyway. Technically she should have been in class right then, but Misaki only attended class when she felt interested in doing so, and she had other matters on her mind. Such as the new girl, as well as Misaka and her Prince, and of course the Independence Day celebration coming up. The festival was going to be held right here on Tokiwadai grounds, which was not her preference. This was her castle and she did not lightly suffer the presence of unvetted guests. Unfortunately, the dictate to hold it there had come down from the City administration, not the school itself, and bucking that order would too obviously reveal her influence to those in the city she would rather remain ignorant to her. On the upside, perhaps she could conspire some way for her Prince to attend the festival... that would surely make her happy!

"Queen!" One of her clique, who was udner compulsion to guard the entranceway to her position so as to prevent any disturbances, suddenly called out in a loud and somewhat panicked voice that did not at all suit the dignity of their surroundings. The girl, who had ringletted bluish hair, raced into the room, holding something in her hands. Misaki winced, grabbing a remote and inputting a "calm down" command into the girl, which instantly purged the emotion from her voice and slowed her approach from a scramble to a more sedate walk.

"What is it? You're interrupting my breakfast." Misaki said, picking up another cinnamon roll demonstratively.

"Yes, I'm sorry, Queen, but we just got news from the group you sent to deal with the upstart girl Claudia." The girl replied, holding out what she held in her hand, which was a small card of white stock, with a big red heart on one corner. Misaki took it, and opened the card. Written within in gold pen, in flowery and antique looking script, were two words. "Mine Now". "This was hand delivered by one of our clique members, Queen. Or I should say, former clique members, as she wore the symbol of La Famille Incarnat..." The door guard girl reported, a trifle nervously.

"I see." Misaki felt simultaneously hot and cold all over. Irritation was a familiar sensation to her, but outright anger was rare. Usually she nipped problems in the bud long before they got to a state where they could potentially anger her. The other cliques losing ground to La Famille Incarnat was one thing, annoying but since it wasn't her power base under threat, no big deal in the long run. But this was different. This was a thrown gauntlet, a deliberate insult and attack aimed at her and her clique! She couldn't even remember the last time someone had done such a thing. No, no one ever had, because her power prevented it from being an issue! Misaka refusing to join any clique was the closest that she'd come to something like this. And as a fellow Level 5, she could cut Misaka slack on that without appearing weak. Claudia was just a level 3. And a transfer student. And she wasn't refusing to join cliques, she was starting her own, and stealing membership from other cliques. Including Misaki's own!

It would be a little difficult to say that the members of her clique were her friends. Many of them had no choice but to be in her clique because of who they were or what they could do for her. They all liked her, because they had no choice. But Misaki had very few friends as most people would understand the term. And none of them really were in Tokiwadai. But they were people she valued, for their use to her, and felt responsible for, because she had altered them with her power. She wasn't THAT sociopathic, that she would use people and then discard them like they were nothing. And this new girl was STEALING them from her. And had the temerity to TAUNT her about it! Her, the 5th ranked Level 5, Mental Out! That sort of thing could not be allowed to stand! It was most irritating, but it seemed like she would have to address this issue personally.

"Gather the clique after class, and have them wait here. I want them to avoid all contact with any member of La Famille Incarnat until I say otherwise." Misaki ordered, emphasizing it with a click of her remote for that purpose.

"Of course, Queen. What will you be doing?" The girl asked, still calmed under Misaki's control.

"I'll be sorting things out with Claudia. Clearly the two of us need to have a long private talk." Misaki answered with a frown frozen on her beautiful face.

xxxx

Misaki stalked into the library, where Claudia was holding her own little court, also seemingly cutting class, and apparently without consequences somehow. Yet another mystery as to how that was being accomplished. Her lips tightened and her eyes narrowed as she saw several of her former top lieutenant's clustered around the raised library nave that was usually where she herself took her leisure while in the library. A deliberate taunt, once more. Claudia was immediately visible, her torrent of vibrant red hair very distinct, as she sat in a reclining easy chair while Misaki's former clique members waited on her hand and foot, all of them completely ignoring Misaki's arrival. A vein pulsed on Misaki's forehead, but she kept her cool as much as possible, since she didn't understand what was happening to cause this. That meant caution was required here.

It was a little demeaning, being the one forced to approach Claudia, rather than being approached in turn, but Misaki swallowed her pride a bit, taking out a remote and pointing it at her captivated clique members. "All of you, get out, and make sure no one bothers us." Misaki ordered, clicking the remote to send the command home. She felt it go home, and even saw some of the girl's stiffened in the robotic way they did when she exercised her power on someone without much finesse. Just as quickly though, another sort of pressure was exerted on their minds, which undid Misaki's control, causing the girls to relax once more, many of them frowning and sneering at her as they reacted to the harshness of her tone and imperiousness.

"What do you want, you big boobed bitch?" One called out nastily. This from a girl who had massaged Misaki's shoulders that very morning while others brushed out her hair after her bath, and had been ecstatic for the privilege.

"Language, ladies. Cute and refined girls should not speak like that, even if she is being rather rude." Claudia interrupted, raising a hand and caressing the angry girl's cheek in a way that instantly gentled her, making her shiver and even moan in delight at the touch. "I know we're still getting introduced and all, but she is the Queen of the school after all, and I'm merely a Duchess, so I suppose we should humor her. Why don't you pretty darlings run along and tell your friends about your change of heart? I'm sure they'll be so happy for you, now that you're in a place where you properly belong."

"O-of course, milady." The girl replied, her voice stammering as Claudia continued to caress her cheek for a moment. Gathering herself, the girl left, leading the others who had once been Misaki's closest servants, and now appeared to be fully under the sway of Claudia, whatever that happened to be! They left the library in short order, each of them passing by Misaki on the way, most of them glaring at her, some simply ignoring her like she was dirt. It certainly didn't do anything to improve her mood, and she was quietly fuming when the doors to the library shut, leaving them alone in the vast and echoing space.

"Well, have a seat then." Claudia said condescendingly, beckoning to a hard and plain chair across from her comfortable lounge seat.

"I'll stand, thank you. I don't intend to be here so long as to require getting comfortable." Misaki answered, her tone sweet but her eyes fiery.

"Oh? Have I upset you, dear girl? You're the one who started this little conflict, you know. It doesn't exactly reflect well on you that you're getting all uptight about it now that you're not having everything go your way." Claudia sneered, relaxing indolently in her chair, barely even looking at Misaki as she stood a few feet away. Misaki noted that the girl seemed to be sitting in the one place on the nave veranda that was not in direct sunlight, which was odd, since most people would like to sit in the sun coming through the stained glass window of the nave, in Misaki's experience.

"No, you're the one who started it. Why are you at this school in the first place? I've tried looking you up but I don't get very far, and certainly nothing about your academic records. But someone with your background could go to any school in this city, and the connections of Tokiwadai's social scene aren't even necessary for you. You came here for some specific reason, in the middle of the term, and now you're breaking up the school's cliques, including my own. What else should I see that as, but an attack?" Misaki countered, leaning against the railing of the veranda.

"I'm just trying to make myself at home." Claudia batted her eyelashes coquettishly. "I'm so, so sorry that its ruffling your feathers, truly."

"This home is already occupied. By me." Misaki retorted with an irritated sigh. "I could forgive you for stealing the other cliques members. But you've gone too far by stealing mine. Your wealth and your background don't mean anything to me, they won't protect you here. You might be allowed to run roughshod over the established order wherever you're from, but you're on my territory now."

"Scary. So what, are you hear to run me out? I think you might find that more difficult than you think..." Claudia smirked confidently.

"Really? How about this then?" Misaki snapped back, pointing her remote and clicking the button. "Apologize to me." She ordered, thrusting forward with her power into the other girl. Or she tried to anyway. At a basic level, Misaki's power wasn't simple mind control. It was a complex manipulation of the brain's chemicals and fluids to change their composition, conductivity and other factors, which then manipulated thought, emotion and memory. Some powers, such as a certain level 5 Electromaster, could thus resist her ability through their own passive electrical manipulation. Accelerator too was immune, because he could reverse the changes to his own brain chemistry as she inflicted them. But well over 99 percent of everyone else in Academy City was completely vulnerable to her power. It was a familiar process for her, instinctive almost at this stage, and it happened faster than blinking in most cases.

This time though, it did not work. At all. It wasn't like it was being blocked, like in Misaka. Or being resisted and reverted, like Accelerator. This was like reaching into Claudia's head, but not finding any brain inside! Her brain chemistry was, as far as Misaki's power could determine, nonexistent. It was so strange that Misaki actually staggered back against the railing in disquiet, her starry eyes wide with shock. How could anyone's brain be like that? No chemistry, no bio-electric currents, no nothing! There was nothing there for her power to affect! "What the hell are you?" She spat out, fingers trembling a little on her remote.

"Oh my, did that not work out as intended? How unfortunate. For you." Claudia replied, her tone icy and yet also predatory, as she leaned forward, staring hard at Misaki. Her eyes suddenly seemed to glow crimson from deep within, and Misaki felt her gaze being drawn inexorably into the depths of those dark eyes. She felt sleepy. Languid. Comfortable, but detached. Like she was slowly sinking into a warm, endless bath, eyelids dropping, breathing slowing, heart rate dropping. She swayed on her feet, her remote slipping from her hand to clatter on the floor. With great effort, fueled not a little by a jolt of fear as she felt consciousness slipping away from her, Misaki marshaled herself, boosting her own brain chemistry, forcing out the lethargy, flushing her body with sensations of chill to counteract the sleepy warmth, straightening up and shaking herself hard all over, throwing off the feeling, so that Claudia's eyes were just eyes once more, now narrowed and fierce.

 _What the hell was that?!_ Misaki thought in great alarm. _Hypnotism? No, that was too strong. That was some kind of supernatural compulsion! But that's impossible! Her Esper power is Physical Enhancement! Nobody can have more than one power at once, I know that for a fact! Not without cheating through a brainwave network like Gensai did, but that would require brainwaves to work... and this girl doesn't have any! Which means she should be dead, by my understanding of biology..._ "Doesn't seem like that worked either." She gritted out, glaring challengingly if with some trepidation at Claudia.

"Apparently not." Claudia leaned back in her chair, and began filing her nails nonchalantly. "You have a strong will indeed. Or maybe its your power? Either way, it doesn't really matter."

"Don't get cocky now. Just because you're immune to my Mind control, doesn't mean that's the limit of Mental Out." Misaki said with a sneer of her own, as she fetched a different remote from her bag.

"Oh? Do you wish to challenge me to more than just staring and a contest of wills? Are you sure you want to do that?" Claudia leaned forward again, bracing her arms on her chair, as if preparing to stand and physically hurl herself at Misaki.

"I'll knock you out with brain freeze before you can even stand up." Misaki threatened, finger tense on the button of this remote, which was for a home temperature control system. Her power was moisture based, and could, when stressed, cause dry freezing effects in the environment. Or even within a brain being influenced by her power, though that was a very dangerous thing to do, and she usually avoided it. But she was feeling uncommonly threatened by Claudia, and wasn't going to hold back if this turned violent.

Claudia licked her lips in a lascivious and hungry manner. "Will you now?" She said throatily, her eyes seeming to almost glow again. "Perhaps we should settle things here and now then, sweet thing..."

The sound of crackling electricity from behind them both caused them both to start a little bit, as they looked down onto the library floor to see Mikoto Misaka standing there, a halo of sparks dancing around her head and an unamused look on her face. "If you two wanna fight, take it outside to an arena where a teacher can referee. Other people need to use the library though." Misaka told them both flatly, eyes darting from one to the other and back again, as her electric threat display continued. She'd heard rumors that Misaki was getting into a confrontation with the new transfer student in the library, and had decided to come check it out for herself. Kuroko spoke positively about Claudia after all, and Misaka wasn't about to let Misaki ride roughshod over one of her friend's friends.

However upon arrival, she found them to be more or less equally at odds, with Misaki standing back as far from Claudia as she could get while remaining on the nave veranda, and sounding both angry and shaken as she threatened Claudia with physical harm, which was completely unlike her in Misaka's experience. There was definitely something odd about Claudia too, something that chilled Misaka's spine very unpleasantly. Her eyes, maybe. Or her posture. Something. Something that screamed "Danger, Danger!" into the instinctive side of her mind. It took a lot to put Misaki on the back foot in Misaka's experience. She herself could hardly manage it, even when she got legitimately angry.

"Oh, Misaka." Misaki said, in bored tones, regaining some of her composure. She wasn't going to show it, but she felt a little glad deep down inside, that her fellow Level 5 had showed up. At the very least it gave her a convenient way to back down without seeming weak. "That seems like an awful lot of trouble. I have better things to do than fight with some upstart new social climber. I've done what I came here to do... Claudia knows how things work around here now. The next time she steps out of line, she won't just get a friendly warning." _I will purge you from this school like an infestation of vermin, you creepy bitch._ Misaki thought fiercely to herself. _Tokiwadai is MY home and I will not allow anyone to threaten it or its students!_ Misaki turned, putting her remote back in her bag and stalking off, brushing past Misaka. "Watch out for her. She's not what she seems." She whispered just barely loud enough to hear as she walked past.

"Neither are you!" Claudia called from her chair, leaning back into it indolently once more, causing Misaki to shiver as she realized that her clandestine warning had been overheard somehow. Something was definitely wrong with this Claudia girl. And she was going to find out what, and then remove the girl from Tokiwadai. If it was the last thing she did!

xxxx

"So what was that all about?" Misaka asked the new girl, once Shokuhou had left the library, head held high but clearly in retreat all the same. Misaka didn't pretend to understand all the subtle social cues that so consumed many of the girls in her school and their daily interactions with each other. But that didn't mean she had no social awareness, merely that she didn't care most of the time. She could definitely see that Claudia and Misaki weren't going to be friends. Normally that was a positive in her book. She didn't particularly like Misaki, felt that she was selfish and arrogant, and that she used her power way too much on innocent people, even for the most frivolous of things. She might not be evil, per se, and had done some good things in the past. But she definitely acted mostly out of self interest, not moral compulsion.

But her spine was still tingling unpleasantly, just looking at Claudia. This was her first face to face meeting with the other girl, and something about her was just plain off. Not her expression or body language, something else. Something that tickled at Miaka's senses in a way she could not articulate. Which bothered her, put her hackles up. She tried to fight it down. Kuroko spoke glowingly about this girl after all, she owed it to her to give her a fair chance after all. And at least she wasn't a big chested monster like some of the girls at Tokiwadai, including Shokuhou, so she didn't trigger Misaka's little inferiority complex on that level. But still, for Shokuhou to whisper a warning to her like that, in combination with her own instinctive dislike? Something was definitely not right here. But what?

"She objects to me forming my own little group of friends and supporters apparently. It seems it's not the done thing here at this school, but what can I say? If I have the charm and charisma to draw followers to myself, then why should I be punished for providing those girls with something they clearly lack where they currently are, regardless of what clique they might be in?" Claudia replied with a shrug of puzzlement.

 _She's stealing girls from Shokuhou's clique? On the one hand, I guess I'm all for that. Shokuhou's been treating half the school's population like servants for as long as I've been here. But how is she coaxing them away from Shokuhou? I don't have any proof she uses her power on them, aside from those times I've seen her do it, but I would have thought she'd make sure nobody leaves her clique except by her permission._ Misaka thought to herself. _Though I guess that explains why Shokuhou confronted her. She wouldn't take that sort of thing lying down._ "That's all? So why did you two look like you were going to fight when I got here?"

"I guess some people don't handle it well when their privilege is put in check." Claudia shrugged again. "I was only defending myself."

 _Sure you were. That's why Shokuhou was all but running away from you up there. Damn it, I hate this sort of thing, this sniping and backbiting and politicking!_ "Well, I guess I can't fault you for that. Just tell me, Claudia-san, that you're not going to be causing trouble here at school are you? Kuroko speaks the world of you, but I don't want you getting her into trouble or getting her involved in whatever disagreement you and Shokuhou have." Misaka said firmly.

"I assure you Misaka-san, I have only the best of intentions towards Shirai. I would never harm her, I only want her to be happy. And I won't start trouble in this school. But if anyone starts trouble with me, I will defend myself and my interests." Claudia replied with a smile.

 _Why don't I believe you? No, seriously, why? Why do I feel like she's lying to me somehow? Her words sound truthful. Even reasonable. But I can't shake this bad feeling about her! What is it? I'm not the sort of person to judge someone just by how they make me feel, am I?_ Misaka sighed to herself. _Give her a chance at least. I'll keep an eye on her though._ "That's good enough for me. So then, Claudia, what are you going to do for the Festival?"

"Oh I have big plans. Very big plans..."


End file.
